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THE ASTONISHING 
ADVENTURE OF 
JANE SMITH 


BY 

PATRICIA WENTWORTH 

Author of 

“A Marriage Under the Terror/' etc* 



BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



1 / 042*5 


A A* 

2i 

c -=1a 


Copyricht, 1923 

By SMALL, MAYNARD & .COMPANY 
(Incorporated) \ 


> 



V 


Printed in the United States of America 


THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY 

CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

THE BOSTON BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 



A** 


THE ASTONISHING ADVENTURE 
OF JANE SMITH 




\ 




THE ASTONISHING ADVENTURE 
OF JANE SMITH 


CHAPTER I 

T HE dining-room of Molloy’s flat had not been built 
to receive twenty-five guests, but the Delegates 
of twenty-five affiliated Organisations had been 
crowded into it. The unshaded electric light glared 
down upon men of many types and nationalities. 
It did not flatter them. 

The air was heavy with the smoke of bad tobacco 
and the fumes of a very indifferent gas fire. There 
was a table in the middle of the room, and some dozen 
of the men were seated at it. The rest stood in groups, 
or leaned against the walls. 

Of the four who formed the Inner Council three 
were present. Most of the Delegates had expected 
that the head of The Council, the head of the Feder¬ 
ated Organisations, that mysterious Number One 
whom they all knew by reputation and yet had 
never seen in the flesh, would be present in person 
to take the chair. But the Delegates who had enter¬ 
tained this expectation were doomed to disappoint¬ 
ment. Once again Number One’s authority had been 
delegated to the other three members of The Council. 
Of these, Number Three was Molloy, the big, hand- 
1 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


some Irishman who rented the flat. He sat facing the 
door, a fine figure of a man in the late forties. Number 
Two leaned forward over the fire, warming his hands, 
his pale, intellectual face expressionless, his eyes 
veiled. Belcovitch, who was Number Four, was on 
his feet speaking. They were large, bony feet, in boots 
which had most noticeably not been made for him. 
He spoke fluently, but with a heavy foreign accent. 

“ Propaganda,” he said, and laughed; really he 
had a very unpleasant laugh—“ propaganda is what 
you call rot, rubbish, damn nonsense. What else 
have we been about for years—no, generations— 
and where are we to-day?” 

Number Two drew his chair closer to the fire with 
an impatient jerk. Number Four’s oratory bored him 
stiff. The room was cold. This gas fire was like all 
gas fires. He pulled his fur coat together and spoke 
sharply: 

“ Molloy, this room’s most infernally cold, and 
where in the world does the draught come from?” 

“Propaganda is dead,” said Number Four. He 
looked over his shoulder with dislike at Number Two, 
and mopped his brow with a dirty handkerchief. 
Molloy, just opposite him, turned a little and laughed. 

“ You bring the cold with you, Number Two,” he 
said. “Here’s Number Four as hot as his own speeches. 
You’ve got all the fire, and the door’s shut, and a 
screen in front of it, so what more do you want?” 

“Propaganda is dead,” repeated Number Four. He 
stood with his back to the door. Only the top panel 
of it showed above the black screen which had been 
drawn across it. The screen had four leaves. On 
each leaf a golden stork on one leg contemplated a 
2 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


golden water-lily. The light shone on the golden 
birds and the golden flowers. 

Number Four thrust his handkerchief back into his 
pocket, and rapped sharply on the table. It was 
covered with a red cloth which had seen better days. 
Number Fourteen had upset the ink only a few 
moments before, and a greenish-purple patch was still 
spreading amidst the crimson. 

Belcovitch leaned forward, both his hands on the 
table, his raucous voice brought to a dead level. 
“ Instead of propaganda, what?” he said. “ Instead 
of building here, teaching there, what? That is what 
I’m here to-night to tell you. To-morrow you all go 
to your own places, each to his post; but before you 
go, I am authorised to prepare you for what is to come. 
It will not be to-day, but it may be to-morrow, or 
it may not be for many to-morrows yet. One final 
stage is lacking, but in essentials The Process is com¬ 
plete. Propaganda is dead, because we no longer 
need propaganda. Comrades ” — his voice sank a 
little — “ there are enough of us. Every city in the 
world has its quota. What The Process will effect ” 

— he paused, looked round, caught Number Two’s 
slightly sardonic expression, and struck the table 
with his open hand — “ what The Process will effect 
is this,” he cried — “ in one word, Annihilation of the 
whole human race! Only our organisation will be 
left.” 

“ Now what I am instructed to tell you is this,” 

— he spoke evenly, swiftly, statement following state¬ 
ment — never had the attention of an audience been so 
fully his; and then suddenly the thread was broken. 
With a loud grating sound, Number Fifteen, sitting 

3 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


next to Molloy, pushed his chair back, and sprang to 
his feet. 

“ The door!” he shouted. “ The door!” Every 
man in the room looked where Fifteen was looking. 
Above the water-lilies and the storks, where the top 
panel of the door had shown, there was a dark, empty 
space. The door was open. 

Number Four whipped out a revolver and dragged 
the screen away. The door was open, and in the 
doorway stood a girl in her nightdress. Her hands 
were stretched out, as if she were feeling her way. 
Her eyes, of a greenish hazel in colour, were widely 
opened, and had a dazed expression. Her brown hair 
hung in two neat plaits. Her feet were bare. Molloy 
pushed forward quickly. 

“ Well, there, if that wasn’t the start of our lives,” 
he said, “and no reason for it when all’s said and done. 
It’s my daughter, Renata, comrades, and she’s walking 
in her sleep. Now I’ll just take her back to her room 
and be with you again.” 

“ A minute, I think, Molloy,” said Number Two. 
He got up slowly out of his chair, and came across to 
where the girl stood motionless, blinking at the light. 
“ I said there was a most infernal draught. Will 
you come in, Miss Molloy?” he added politely, and 
took the girl by the hand. She yielded to his touch, and 
came into the room, shivering a little. Some one shut 
the door. Molloy, shrugging his shoulders, pulled 
the crimson cloth from the table and wrapped it about 
his daughter. The ink-soaked patch came upon her 
bare shoulder, and she cried out, cast a wild look at 
the strange and terrifying faces about her, and burst 
into a flood of tears. 


4 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Molloy, standing behind her, looked around as she 
had looked, and his face darkened. Number Four 
had his back against the door, and his revolver in his 
hand. There was only one face in the whole circle 
that was not stamped with suspicion and fear, and 
behind the fear and the suspicion there was something 
icy, something ruthless. Number Two, with a slightly 
bored expression, was feeling in his waistcoat pocket. 
He produced a small glass bottle, extracted from it 
a tiny pellet, and proceeded to dissolve it in the glass of 
water which had stood neglected at Number Four’s 
right hand. 

“ Now, Miss Molloy,” he said, but Molloy caught 
him by the wrist. 

“ What the devil-” he stammered, and Number 

Two laughed. 

“My dear Molloy,” he said, “how crude! You 
might know me better than that.” 

He held the glass to Renata’s lips, and she took it 
and drank. When she had set down the glass, she 
felt her way to a chair and leaned back with closed 
eyes. The room seemed to whirl about her. A con¬ 
fusion of sound was in her ears, loud, angry, with 
sentences that came and went. “If she heard,” — then 
another — “ How long was she there? Some one must 
have seen the door open.” 

“ Who did, then?” Then in the harshest voice 
of all, “ I don’t care if she’s Molloy’s daughter fifty 
times over, if she heard what Four said about The 
Process, she must go.” Go where? 

There was something cold and wet touching her 
shoulder. The cold seemed to spread all over her. 
Now her father was speaking. She had never heard 
5 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

his voice quite like that before. And now the man in 
the fur coat, the one who had given her the glass of 
water: 

“ Yes, certainly, elimination if it is necessary. 
We’re all agreed about that. But let us make sure.” 
His voice had quite a gentle sound, but Renata’s heart 
began to beat with great thuds. 

“ Miss Molloy,” — he was speaking to her now, and 
she opened her eyes and looked at him. His face was 
of a clear, even pallor. His eyes, light blue and 
without noticeable lashes, looked straight into hers. 
The veil was gone from them. They held a terrifying 
intelligence. 

Renata sat up. The crowd of men had cleared 
away. She, and her father, and the man in the fur 
coat were in an angle formed by the table and the 
black screen, which had been drawn close around 
them. Her father sat between her and the fire. His 
head was turned away, and he drummed incessantly 
on the table with the fingers of his right hand. 
Beyond the screen Renata could hear movements, 
and it came to her that the other men were there, 
waiting. The man in the fur coat spoke to her 
again. His voice was pleasant and cultivated, his 
manner reassuring. 

“ You are better now? Please don’t be frightened. 
I am a doctor; your father will tell you that. Being 
wakened suddenly like that gave you a shock, but you 
are better now.” 

“ Yes,” said Renata. She wished that her heart 
would stop beating so hard, and she wished that the 
man in the fur coat would stop looking at her. 

“ Now, Miss Renata, I am your doctor, you know, 

6 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


and I want you to answer just a few questions. You 
have walked in your sleep before?” 

“ Yes,” said Renata — “ oh yes.” 

“ Often?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What was the first time?” 

“ I think — I think I was five years old. They 
found me in the garden.” 

Molloy let out a great breath of relief. If she had 
forgotten, if her account had differed from his — well, 
well, their luck was in. 

There was a whispering from behind the screen. 
Number Two frowned. 

“And the last time?” 

“ It was at school. I walked into another dormitory 
and frightened the girls.” 

The man in the fur coat nodded. “ So your father 
said.” And for a moment Molloy stared over his 
shoulder at him. “ And to-night? Do you dream on 
these occasions?” 

Renata was reassured. Every moment it was more 
like an ordinary visit to a doctor. She had been asked 
all these questions so often. Her voice no longer 
trembled as she answered. “ Yes, I dream. I walk 
in my sleep because of the dream; now to-night . . .” 

“ Yes, to-night?” 

“ I dreamt I was back at school, and I thought I 
heard talking in the next dormitory. You know we 
are not allowed to talk, and I am — I mean I was a 
prefect. So I got up, and went to see what was the 
matter, and some one pulled the screen away, and 
there was such a light, and such a noise.” She put out 
a shaking hand, and Number Two patted it kindly. 

7 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Very startling for you,” he said. “ So you opened 
the door and came in and heard us all talking. Can 
you tell me what was being said?” His hand was 
on Renata’s wrist, and he felt the pulses leap. She 
spoke a shade too quickly: 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ Perhaps I can help you. Your father, you know, 
travels for a firm of chemists, a firm in which I and my 
friends are also interested. We were discussing a new 
aniline dye which, we hope, will capture the markets of 
the world. Now did you hear that word — aniline — 
or anything like it? You see I want to find out just 
what woke you. What tiresome questions we doctors 
ask, don’t we?” 

He smiled, and Renata tried to collect her thoughts. 
They were in great confusion. 

Aniline—annihilate—the two words kept coming and 
going. If her head had been clearer she would almost 
certainly have fallen into the trap which had been laid 
for her. Molloy stopped drumming on the table and 
clenched his hand. With all his strength he was pray¬ 
ing to the saints in whom he no longer believed. Behind 
the screen twenty-three men waited in a dead silence. 
Renata was not frightened any more, but she was tired 
— oh, so dreadfully tired. Annihilate — aniline — the 
words and their similarity of sound teased her. She 
turned from them with a little burst of petulance. 

“ I didn’t hear anything like that. Oh, do let me go 
to bed! I only heard some one call out . . 

“ Yes?” said Number Two. 

“ He said, ‘ The door, the door! ’ and then there were 
all those lights.” 


8 


CHAPTER II 


J ANE SMITH sat on a bench in Kensington 
Gardens. Her entire worldly fortune lay in her 
lap. It consisted of two shillings and eleven pence. 
She had already counted the pennies four times, 
because there really should have been three shillings. 
She was now engaged in making a list in parallel col¬ 
umns of (a) those persons from whom she might seek 
financial assistance, and ( b ) the excellent reasons 
which prevented her from approaching them. 

Jane had a passion for making lists. Years and 
years and years ago Mr. Carruthers had said to her, 
“ My dear, you must learn to be businesslike. I have 
never been businesslike myself, and it has always 
been a great trouble to me.” And then and there he 
and Jane had, in collaboration, embarked upon the 
First List. It was a thrilling list, a list of toys for 
Jane’s very first Christmas tree. Since then she had 
made lists of her books, lists of her clothes, shopping 
lists, and an annual list of good resolutions. 

Jane stopped writing, and began to think about all 
those other lists. She had always showed them to 
Mr. Carruthers, and he had always gazed at them with 
the same vague benignness, and said how businesslike 
she was getting. 

Dear Cousin James — Jane was rich instead of poor 
when she thought about him. She looked across at 
9 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the trees in their new mist of green, and then suddenly 
the thin April sunshine dazzled in her eyes and the 
green swam into a blur. Cousin James was gone, and 
Jane was alone in Kensington Gardens with two-and- 
elevenpence and a list. 

She opened and shut her eyes very quickly once or 
twice, and fixed her attention upon (a) and (b) in their 
parallel columns. At the top of the list Jane had 
written “ Cousin Louisa,” and the reason against 
asking Cousin Louisa’s assistance was set down as, 
“Because she was a perfect beast to my darling Jimmy, 
and a worse beast to me, and anyhow, she wouldn’t.” 

In moments of irreverence the late Mr. Carruthers— 
the Mr. Carruthers, author of five monumental volumes 
on Ethnographical Differentiation—had been addressed 
by his young ward and cousin as “ darling Jimmy.” 

Professor Philpot came next. “A darling, but he is 
sitting somewhere in Central Africa in a cage learning 
to talk gorilla. I do hope they haven’t eaten him, or 
whatever they do do to people when they catch them.” 

It will be observed that Miss Smith’s association 
with the world of science had not succeeded in chasten¬ 
ing her grammar. 

Jane’s pencil travelled down the list. 

“ Mr. Bruce Murray. In Thibet studying Llamas.” 

“ Henry ’’—Jane shook her head and solemnly put 
two thick black lines through Henry’s name. One 
cannot ask for financial assistance from a young man 
whose hand one has refused in marriage—“ even if it 
was three years ago, and he’s probably been in love 
with at least fifteen girls since then.” 

“Henry’s mamma—well, the only time she ever 
loved me in her life was when I refused Henry, so I 
10 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


should think she was an Absolute Wash Out—and 
that’s the lot.” 

Jane folded up the list and put it into her handbag. 
Two silver shillings and eleven copper pennies, and 
then the workhouse! 

It was at this moment that a stout lady with a ginger- 
coloured pug sat heavily down upon the far end of 
Jane’s bench. The ginger-coloured pug was on a 
scarlet leather lead, and after seating herself the stout 
lady bent forward creaking, and lifted him to a place 
beside her. 

Jane wondered vaguely why a red face and a tightly 
curled fringe should go with a passion for bugled 
bonnets and pugs. 

“ Was ’urns hungry?” said the stout lady. 

The pug breathed stertorously, after the manner of 
pugs, and his mistress at once produced two paper 
bags from a beaded reticule. From one of them she 
took a macaroon, and from the other a sponge finger. 
The pug chose the macaroon. 

“ Precious,” cooed the stout lady, and all at once 
Jane felt entirely capable of theft and murder—theft 
from the stout lady, and murder upon the person of 
the ginger pug. For at the sight of food she realised 
how very, very hungry she was. Bread and margarine 
for breakfast six hours before, and the April air was 
keen, and Jane was young. 

The pug spat out the last mouthful of macaroon, 
ignored the sponge finger, and snorted loudly. 

“ Oh, naughty, naughty,” said the stout lady. She 
half turned towards Jane. 

“ You really wouldn’t believe how clever he is,” she 
observed conversationally; “ it’s a cream bun he’s 

11 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


asking for as plain as plain, and yesterday when I 
bought them for him, he teased and teased until I 
went back for macaroons; though, of course, a nice 
plain sponge finger is really better for him than either. 
I don’t need the vet. to tell me that. Come along, a 
naughty, tiresome precious then.” She lifted the pug 
down from the seat, put the paper bags tidily back 
into her reticule, rose ponderously to her feet, and 
walked away, trailing the scarlet lead and cooing to 
the ginger pug. 

Jane watched her go. 

“ Why don’t I laugh?” she said. “ Why doesn’t 
she amuse me? One needn’t lose one’s sense of humour 
even if one is down and out.” 

It was at this unpropitious moment that the tall 
young man who had sat down unseen upon Jane’s 
other side, laid his hand upon hers and observed in 
stirring accents: 

“ Darling.” 

Jane whisked round in an icy temper. Her greenish- 
hazel eyes looked through the young man in the direc¬ 
tion of the north pole. He ought to have stiffened 
to an icicle then and there, instead of which he mur¬ 
mured, “ Darling,” again, and then added—“ but 
what’s the matter?” Jane stopped looking at him 
or through him. He had simply ceased to exist. She 
picked up her two shillings and her eleven pence, put 
them into her purse, and consigned her purse to her 
handbag. She then closed the handbag with a snap, 
and rose to her feet. 

“Renata!” exclaimed the young man in tones of 
consternation. 

Jane paused and allowed herself to observe him for 
12 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the first time. She saw a young man with an intel¬ 
lectual forehead and studious brown eyes. He appeared 
to be hurt and surprised. She decided that this was 
not a would-be Lothario. 

“ I think you have made a mistake,” she said, and 
was about to pass on. 

“ But, Renata, Renata, darling!” stammered the 
young man even more desperately. Jane assumed 
what Cousin Louisa had once described as “ that 
absurdly grand manner.” It was quite kind, but it 
induced the young man to believe that Jane was 
conversing with him from about the distance of the 
planet Saturn. 

“ I think,” she said, “ that you must be taking me 
for my cousin, Renata Molloy.” 

“ But I’m engaged to her—no, I mean to you—oh, 
hang it all, Renata, what’s the sense of a silly joke like 
this?” 

Jane looked at him keenly. “ What is my cousin’s 
middle name?” she inquired. 

“ Jane. I hate it.” 

“ Thank you,” said Jane. “ My name is Jane 
Renata Smith, and I am Renata Jane Molloy’s 
first cousin. Our mothers were twin sisters, and 
I have always understood that we were very much 
alike.” 

“ Alike!” gasped the young man. Words seemed 
to fail him. 

Jane bowed slightly and began to walk away, but, 
before she had gone a dozen paces, he was beside her 
again. 

“ If you’re really Renata’s cousin, I want to talk to 
you—I must talk to you. Will you let me?” 

13 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Jane walked as far as the next seat, and sat down 
with resignation. 

“ I don’t even know your name.” 

“ It’s Todhunter—Arnold Todhunter.” He seemed 
a trifle breathless. “My sister Daphne was at school 
with Renata, and she came to stay with us once in the 
holidays. I said we were engaged, didn’t I? Only, 
nobody knows it. You won’t tell Mr. Molloy, will 
you?” 

“ I’ve never spoken to Mr. Molloy in my life,” 
said Jane. “ There was a most awful row when 
my aunt married him, and none of us have ever met 
each other since. My aunt died years and years 
ago. I think Mr. Molloy is an Anarchist of some 
sort, isn’t he?” 

“ Yes, yes, yes,” said Mr. Todhunter, with violence. 
He banged the back of the iron seat with his hand. 
Jane reflected that he must be very much in love if 
he failed to notice how hard it was. 

“ Yes, yes, he is,” repeated Mr. Todhunter, “ and 
worse; and Renata is in the most dreadful position. 
I must talk to somebody, or I shall go mad.” 

“ Well, you can talk to me,” said Jane soothingly. 
“ I have always wanted to meet Renata, and I should 
love to hear all about her.” 

Mr. Todhunter hesitated. 

“ Miss Smith—you did say Smith, didn’t you?— 
it’s so difficult to begin. You’ll probably think I’m 
mad, or trying it on, but it’s like this: I’ve just 
qualified as an engineer, and I’ve got a job in South 
America. Naturally I wanted to see Mr. Molloy. 
Renata wouldn’t let me. She hardly knows her 
father, and she’s most awfully scared of him. We 
14 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

used to meet in the Park. Then one day she didn’t 
come. She went on not coming, and I nearly went 
mad. At last I went to Molloy’s flat and asked to see 
her. They said she had left town, but it was a lie. 
Just before the door shut, I heard her voice.” Mr. 
Todhunter paused. “Look here, you won’t give any 
of this away, will you? You know, it’s awfully con¬ 
fusing for me, your being so like Renata. It makes 
my head go round.” 

“ Go on,” said Jane. 

“ Well, the bit I don’t want you to tell any one is 
this—I mean to say, it’s confidential, absolutely 
confidential: when I was at the Engineering School, 
I knew a chap who had got mixed up with Molloy’s 
lot. He didn’t get deep in, you’ll understand. They 
scared him, and he backed out. Well, I remembered 
a yarn he had told me. He was in Molloy’s flat one 
night, and it was raided. And I remembered that he 
said a lot of them got away down the fire-escape into 
a yard, and then out through some mews at the back. 
Well, I went and nosed about until I found that fire- 
escape, and I got up it, and I found Renata’s room 
and talked to her through the window. It’s not so 
dangerous as it sounds, because they lock her in the 
flat at night, and go out. And she’s in a frightful 
position—oh, Miss Smith, you simply have no idea of 
what a frightful position she’s in!” 

“ I might have, if you would tell me what it is,” said 
Jane dryly. She found Mr. Todhunter diffuse. 

“ Well, she’s a prisoner, to start with. They keep 
her locked in her room.” 

“ Who’s they?” interrupted Jane. 

Mr. Todhunter rumpled his hair. “ She doesn’t 
15 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


even know their names,” he said distractedly. His 
voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s the most appalling 
criminal organisation, Miss Smith. Molloy’s one of 
them, but they won’t even let Molloy see her alone 
now. You see, they think she overheard something. 
They don’t know whether she did or not. If they were 
sure that she did, they would kill her.” 

“ Well, did she?” said Jane. 

“ I don’t know,” said Mr. Todhunter gloomily. 
“ She cried such a lot, and we were both rather con¬ 
fused, and she’s most awfully frightened, you know.” 
He glared at Jane as if she had something to do with 
Renata being frightened. “ If I’m to take up this 
job of mine, I have to sail in three days’ time. I 
want her to marry me and come too; but she says 
that, if she runs away, they’ll make sure she heard 
something, and, if it’s the farthest ends of the earth, 
they’ll find her and kill her. It seems Molloy told her 
that. And if she stays here and they bully her again, 
she doesn’t know what she may give away. It’s a 
frightful position, isn’t it?” 

“ Why don’t you go to the police?” said Jane. 

“ I thought of that, but they’d laugh at me. I 
haven’t heard anything, and I don’t know anything. 
Molloy would only say that Renata was under age, 
and that he had locked her in to prevent her running 
away with me. Then they’d kill her.” 

“ I see,” said Jane. Then—“ What do you want 
me to do?” she asked. 

All the time that Mr. Todhunter had been glooming 
and groaning, running his fingers through his hair 
and depicting Renata’s appalling position, the Great 
Idea had been slowly forming itself in his mind. Every 
16 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


time that he looked at Jane, her likeness to Renata 
made him feel quite giddy. The Great Idea intoxi¬ 
cated him. He began to decant it. 

“ Miss Smith, if you would—you see, if we could 
only get a clear start—what I mean to say is, South 
America’s a long way off-” 

“ Quite a distance,” Jane agreed. 

“ And if they thought that you were Renata, they 
wouldn’t look for her—and once we were clear 
away-” 

“ My dear Mr. Todhunter!” said Jane. 

“ I could take you up the fire-escape,” said Mr. 
Todhunter, in low, thrilling accents. “ It would be 
quite easy. They would never know that Renata 
was not there. You do see what I mean, don’t 
you?” 

“ Oh yes,” said Jane in rather an odd voice. 
“ You’ve made it beautifully clear. Renata is in a 
position of deadly peril—I think that’s what you 
called it—and the simple way out is for Renata to 
elope with you to South America, and for me to be in 
the position of deadly peril instead. It’s a beautiful 
plan.” 

“ Then you’ll do it?” exclaimed the oblivious Mr. 
Todhunter. 

Jane looked away. Immediately in front of her 
was a strip of gravelled path. Beyond that there was 
green grass, and a bed of pale blue hyacinths, and 
budding daffodils. Two-and-elevenpence, and then 
the workhouse—the ascent of a fire-escape in the 
April darkness, and at the top of the fire-escape a 
position of deadly peril. 

“ Of course,” said Jane, speaking to herself in her 

17 




ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

own mind. “ I might try to be a housemaid, but one 
has to have a character, and I don’t believe Cousin 
Louisa would give me one.” 

She turned back to the chafing Mr. Todhunter. 

“ Let’s talk,” she said briefly. 


18 


CHAPTER III 


J ANE took down the telephone directory, opened it, 
and began to run her finger along the column of 
“ M’s.” As she did so, she wondered why the light 
in public call offices is so arranged as to strike the top 
of the occupant’s head, and never by any chance to 
illumine the directory. 

“ Marbot ” — “ Marbottle ” — “ March, The Rev. 
Aloysius ” — “ March, George William Adolphus ” — 
“ March, Mrs. de Luttrelle.” 

Jane made a mark opposite the number. 

When Rosa Mortimer married Henry Luttrell 
March, she thought, and often said, how much nicer 
the Luttrell would look if it were written de Luttrelle. 
If her husband had died six months earlier than he 
actually did, the name in this improved form would 
most certainly have been inflicted upon an infant 
Henry. As it was, the child was baptized and regis¬ 
tered as Henry Luttrell, and ten years later took up the 
struggle over the name where his father had left it. 
Eventually, a compromise was effected, Mrs. March 
flaunting her de Luttrelle, and Henry tending to sup¬ 
press his Luttrell under an initial. His mother never 
ceased to bemoan his stubbornness. 

“ Any one would think that Henry was not proud 
of his family, and he may say what he likes, but there 
were de Luttrelles for hundreds of years before any one 
ever heard of a Luttrell. And Luttrell Marches is 
19 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


bound to come to him, or practically bound to, because, 
whatever Henry may say, I am quite sure that Tony 
will never turn up again.” 

The very sound of the aggrieved voice was in Jane’s 
ears as she unhung the receiver and gave the number. 
She supposed that Henry still lived with his mother, 
and that Mrs. March would still keep an indignant 
bridge table waiting whilst she discoursed upon Henry 
—his faults, his foibles, his ailments, and his prospects 
of inheriting Luttrell Marches. 

At that moment Henry, appropriately enough, was 
gazing at a photograph of Jane. It must not be 
imagined that this was a habit of his. Three years ago 
was three years ago, and Jane had receded into the 
distance with a great many other pleasant things. 
But to-night he had been looking through some old 
snapshots, and all of a sudden there was that three- 
years-old Cornish holiday, and Jane. Henry sat frown¬ 
ing at the photograph. 

Jane—why was one fond of Jane? He wondered 
where she was. It was only last week that some one had 
mentioned old Carruthers, and had seemed surprised 
that Henry did not know how long he had been dead. 

The telephone bell rang, and Henry jumped up with 
relief. 

“Hullo!” said a voice—and “Hullo!” said Henry. 

“ Is that Captain March?” 

“ Speaking,” said Henry. 

“ It’s Jane Smith,” said the voice, and Henry very 
nearly dropped the receiver. There was a pause, and 
then Jane said: 

“ I want to come and see you on business. Can vou 
spare the time?” 


20 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Er—my mother’s out,” said Henry, and he heard 
her say, “ Thank goodness,” with much sincerity. 
The next moment she was apologising. 

“ Oh, I say, Henry, that sounded awfully rude, but 
I really do want to see you about something very 
important. No, you can’t come and see me. I’m one 
of the great unemployed, and I’m not living anywhere 
at present. No, I won’t meet you at a restaurant 
either. Just tell me your nearest Tube Station, and I’ll 
come along. All right then; I won’t be more than ten 
minutes.” 

Henry turned away, feeling a little dazed. Being a 
methodical young man, he proceeded to put away the 
photographs with which the table was littered. A 
little snapshot of Jane he kept to the last, and ended 
by not putting it away at all. After he had looked at 
it for some time, he put it on the mantelpiece behind 
the clock. The hands pointed to nine o’clock pre¬ 
cisely. Then he looked at himself in the glass that 
was over the mantel, and straightened his tie. 

Henry’s mother naturally considered him the most 
beautiful of created beings. Without going quite as 
far as this, Henry certainly approved of his own looks. 
Having approved of himself, he proceeded to move the 
clock back half an inch, and to alter the position of the 
twisted candlesticks on either side of it. Then he 
poked the fire. Then he began to walk up and down 
the room. And then the bell rang. 

Henry went out into the hall and opened the door 
of the flat, and there on the threshold stood Jane in a 
shabby blue serge coat and skirt, with an old black felt 
hat. Not pretty, not smart—just Jane. She walked 
in and gave him her hand. 

21 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Hullo, Henry!” she said. Then she laughed. 
“ Or, do I call you Captain March?” 

“ You call me Henry,” said Henry, and he shut the 
door. 

“ I expect you’d like to come into the drawing¬ 
room ”—this came hurriedly after a moment’s pause. 
He moved across the hall, switched on the light, and 
stood aside for her to pass. Jane looked in and saw 
more pink cushions and pink lamp-shades than she 
would have believed it possible to get into one small 
room. There were also a great many pink roses, and 
the air was heavy with scent. 

“ I’m sure that’s not where you see people on 
business,” said Jane, and Henry led the way into the 
dining-room. 

“ This is my room,” he said, and Jane sat down on 
a straight, high-backed chair and leaned her elbows 
on the table. 

“ Now, Henry,” she said, “ I’ve come here to tell 
you a story, and I want you to sit down and listen to 
it; and please forget that you are you, and that I am 
I. Just listen.” 

Henry sat down obediently. It was so good to see 
Jane again that, if she liked to sit there and talk till 
midnight, he had no objection. 

“ Now attend,” said Jane, and she began her story. 

“ Once upon a time there were twin sisters, and 
they were called Renata and Jane Carruthers. They 
had a cousin James—you remember him—my darling 
Jimmy? Jimmy wanted to marry Renata, but she 
refused him and married John Smith, my father, and 
when I was five years old she and my father both died, 
and Jimmy adopted me. Now we come to the other 
22 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


twin. Her name was Jane, and she ran away to 
America with a sort of anarchist Irishman named 
Molloy. She died young, and she left one daughter, 
whom she called Renata Jane. I, by the bye, am Jane 
Renata. The twin sisters were so much alike that no 
one ever knew them apart. Jimmy had photographs 
of them, and even he could never tell me which was 
my mother and which was my Aunt Jane. Now, Henry, 
listen to this. My Cousin Renata is in London, and 
it seems that she and I are just as m\ich alike as our 
mothers were. In fact, it’s because Renata’s young 
man took me for Renata this afternoon that I am here, 
asking your advice, at the present moment.” 

Henry smiled a somewhat puzzled smile. “Have 
you asked my advice?” he said; but Jane did not 
smile. Instead, she leaned forward a little. 

“ Are you still at Scotland Yard, Henry?” 

He nodded. 

“ Criminal Investigation Department?” 

He nodded again. 

“ Then listen. Renata is in what her young man 
calls ‘ a position of deadly peril.’ In more ordinary 
language, she’s in a nasty hole. Do you know anything 
about Cornelius Molloy? That’s the Anarchist Uncle, 
Renata’s father, you know.” 

“ There aren’t any anarchists nowadays,” said 
Henry meditatively. 

“I was brought up on anarchists, and I don’t see 
that it matters what you call them,” said Jane. “‘A’ 
for Anarchist, ‘ B ’ for Bolshevik, and so on. The 
point is, do you know anything about Molloy?” 

“ I’ve heard of him,” Henry admitted. 

“ Nothing good?” 


23 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ We don’t hear much that’s good about people— 
officially, you know.” 

“ Well, Arnold Todhunter says that Renata is 
supposed to have overheard something—something 
that her father’s associates think so important that 
they’re keeping her under lock and key, and seriously 
contemplating putting her out of the way altogether.” 

“ Did she overhear anything?” asked Henry, just 
as Jane had done. 

“ No one knows except Renata, and she won’t tell. 
Molloy goes back to the States to-morrow. They 
won’t let him take Renata with him, and Arnold 
Todhunter wants to marry her and carry her off to 
Bolivia, where he’s got an engineering job.” 

“ That appears to be a good scheme,” said Henry, 

“ Yes, but you see they’ll never let her go so long 
as they are not sure how much she knows. Arnold 
says she was walking in her sleep, and blundered in 
on about twenty-five of them, all talking the most 
deadly secrets. And they don’t know when she woke 
or what she heard. And ” — Jane’s eyes began 
to dance a little—“ Arnold has a perfectly splendid 
idea. He takes Renata to Bolivia, and I take Renata’s 
place. Nobody knows she has gone, so nobody looks 
for her.” 

“ What nonsense,” said Henry; then—“ What’s 
this Todhunter like?” 

“ A mug,” said Jane briefly. She paused, and then 
went on in a different voice: 

“ Henry, who is at Luttrell Marches now? Did 
your Cousin Tony ever turn up?” 

Henry stared at her. 

“ Why do you ask that?” 

24 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“Because,” said Jane, with perfect simplicity, 
“ Renata is to be sent down to Luttrell Marches to¬ 
morrow, and somebody there—somebody, Henry— 
will decide whether she is to be eliminated or 
not.” 

Henry sat perfectly silent. He stared at Jane, and 
she stared at him. It seemed as if the silence in the 
room were growing heavier and heavier, like water 
that gathers behind some unseen dam. All of a 
sudden Henry sprang to his feet. 

“ Is this a hoax?” he asked, in tones of such anger 
that Jane hardly recognised them. 

Jane got up too. The hand that she rested upon 
the table was not quite steady. 

“ Henry, how dare you?” and her voice shook a 
little too. 

Henry swung round. 

“No, no—I beg your pardon, Jane, for the Lord’s 
sake don’t look at me like that. It’s, it’s—well, it’s 
pretty staggering to have you come here and say . . 

He paused. “ What was it you wanted to know?” 

“ I asked you who is living at Luttrell Marches.” 

Henry was silent. He walked to the end of the 
room and back. Jane’s eyes followed him. Where 
had this sudden wave of emotion come from? It 
seemed to be eddying about them, filling the confined 
space. Jane made herself look away from Henry, 
forced herself to notice the room, the furniture, the 
pictures — anything that was commonplace and 
ordinary. This was decidedly Henry’s room and not 
his mother’s, from the worn leather chairs and plain 
oak table to the neutral coloured walls with their half- 
dozen Meissonier engravings. Not a flower, not a 
25 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

trifle of any sort, and one wall all books from ceiling 
to floor. Exactly opposite to Jane there was a fine 
print of “ The Generals in the Snow.” The lowering, 
thunderous sky, heavy with snow and black with the 
omens of Napoleon’s fall, dominated the picture, the 
room. Jane looked at it, and looked away with a 
shiver, and as she did so, Henry was speaking: 

“ Jane, I don’t want to answer that question for a 
minute or two. I want to think. I want a little time 
to turn things over in my mind. Look here, come 
round to the fire and sit down comfortably. Let’s 
talk about something else for a bit. I want all your 
news, for one thing. Tell me what you’ve been doing 
with yourself.” 

Jane came slowly to the fireside. After all, it was 
pleasant just to put everything on one side, and be 
comfortable. Henry’s chair was very comfortable, and 
the day seemed to have lasted for weeks, and weeks, 
and weeks. She put out her hands to the fire, and 
then, because she noticed that they were still trembling 
a little, she folded them in her lap. Henry leaned 
against the mantelpiece and looked down at her. 

“ Where have you been?” he asked. 

“ Well, that summer at Upwater—you know we were 
lodging with the woman who had the post office— 
Jimmy and I stayed on after all the other visitors were 
gone. I expect it was rather irregular, but I used to 
help her. You see her son didn’t get back until 
eighteen months after the armistice, and she wasn’t 
really up to the work. In the end, you may say I ran 
that post office. I did it very well, too. It was some¬ 
thing to do, especially after Jimmy died.” 

“ Yes, I heard. I wondered where you were.” 

26 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ I stayed on until the son came home, and then I 
couldn’t. He was awful, and she thought him quite 
perfect, poor old soul. I came to London and got a 
job in an office, and a month ago I lost it. The firm 
was cutting down expenses, like everybody else. And 
then—well, I looked for another job, and couldn’t find 
one, and this morning my landlady locked the door in 
my face and kept my box. And that, Henry, is why I 
am thinking seriously of changing places with my 
Cousin Renata, who, at least, has a roof over her head 
and enough to eat.” 

“ Jane,” said Henry furiously, “ you don’t mean 
to say—so that’s why you’re looking such a white 
rag!” 

Jane was horrified to find that her eyes had filled 
with tears. She laughed, but the laugh was not a very 
convincing one. 

“ I did have a cup of coffee and two penny buns,” 
she began; and then Henry was fetching sandwiches 
from the sideboard and pressing a cup of hot chocolate 
into her not unwilling hands. 

“ They leave this awful stuff over a spirit lamp for 
my mother, and she always has sandwiches when she 
comes in. It’s better than nothing,” he added in 
tones of wrath. 

“ It’s not awful,” protested Jane; but Henry was 
not mollified. 

“ I don’t understand,” he said. “ Why are you so 
hard up? Didn’t Mr. Carruthers provide for you?” 

Jane’s colour rose. 

“He hadn’t much, and what he had was an annuity. 
You know what Jimmy was, and how heTorgot things. 
I am really quite sure that he had forgotten about 
27 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


its being an annuity, and that he thought that I should 
be quite comfortable.” 

Henry swallowed his opinion of Mr. Carruthers. 

“ Was he your only relation?” 

“ Well,” said Jane, who was beginning to feel better, 
“you can’t really count Cousin Louisa; she was only 
Jimmy’s half-sister, and that makes her a sort of third 
half-cousin of my mother’s. Besides, she always 
simply loathed me.” 

“ And you’ve no other relations at all?” 

“ Only the Anarchist Uncle,” said Jane brightly. 
She gave him her cup and plate. “Your mother has 
simply lovely sandwiches, Henry. Thank you ever so 
much for them, but what will she do when she comes 
home and finds I have eaten them all?” 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure.” Henry’s tone was very 
short. “ Look here, Jane, you must let—er, er, I 
mean, won’t you let . . .” He stuck, and Jane looked 
at him very kindly. 

“ Nothing doing, Henry,” she said, “ but it’s fright¬ 
fully nice of you, all the same.” 

There was a silence. When Jane thought it had 
lasted long enough, she said: 

“ So, you see, it all comes back again to Renata. 
Have you done your thinking, Henry?” 

“ Yes,” said Henry. He drew a chair to the table 
and sat down half turned to the fire—half turned to 
Jane. Sometimes he looked at her, but oftener his gaze 
dwelt intently on the rise and fall of the flames. 

“ What makes you think that your cousin is to be 
taken to Luttrell Marches? Did these people tell her 
so?” 

“ No,” said Jane—“ of course not. As far as I can 
28 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


make out from Arnold Todhunter, Renata is locked in 
her room, but there’s another key and she can get in 
and out. She can move about inside the flat, but she 
can’t get out of it. Well, one night she crept out and 
listened, though you would have thought she had had 
enough of listening, and she heard them say that, as 
soon as her father was out of the way, they would send 
her to Luttrell Marches and let ‘ Number One ’ decide 
whether she was to be ‘ eliminated.’ Since then she’s 
been nearly off her head with terror, poor kid. Now, 
Henry, it’s your turn. What about Luttrell Marches?” 

Henry’s face seemed to have grown rigid. “ It’s 
impossible,” he said in a low voice. 

The clock above them struck ten, and he waited till 
the last stroke had died away. 

“ I don’t know quite what to say to you, but what¬ 
ever I say is confidential. You’ve heard my mother 
talk of the Luttrells, and you may or may not know 
that my uncle died a year ago. You have also probably 
heard that his son, my Cousin Anthony, disappeared 
into the blue in 1915.” 

“ Then Luttrell Marches belongs to you?” For 
the life of her, Jane could not keep a little consterna¬ 
tion out of her voice. 

“ No. If Tony had been missing for seven years, I 
could apply for leave to presume his death, but there’s 
another year to run. My mother—every one—sup¬ 
poses that I am only waiting until the time is up. 
As a matter of fact—Jane, I’m telling you what I 
haven’t told my mother—Anthony Luttrell is alive.” 

“ Where?” 

“ I can’t tell you. And you must please forget what 
I have told you—unless-” 


29 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Unless?” 

“ Unless you have to remember it,” said Henry in an 
odd voice. “For the rest, Luttrell Marches was let 
during my uncle’s lifetime to Sir William Carr-Magnus. 
You know who I mean?” 

“ The Sir William Carr-Magnus?” said Jane, and 
Henry nodded. 

Jane felt absolutely dazed. Sir William Carr- 
Magnus, the great chemist, great philanthropist, and 
Government expert! 

“ He is engaged,” said Henry, “ on a series of most 
important investigations and experiments which he is 
conducting on behalf of the Government. The extreme 
seclusion of Luttrell Marches, and the lonely country 
all round are, of course, exactly what is required under 
the circumstances.” 

Quite suddenly Jane began to laugh. 

“ It’s all mad,” she said, “ but I’ve quite made up 
my mind. Renata shall elope, and I will go to Luttrell 
Marches. It will be better than the workhouse any¬ 
how. You know, Henry, seriously, I have a lot of 
qualifications for being a sleuth. Jimmy taught me 
simply heaps of languages, I’ve got eyes like gimlets, 
and I can do lip-reading.” 

“ What?” 

“ Yes, I can. Jimmy had a perfectly deaf house¬ 
keeper, and it worried him to hear us shouting at each 
other, so I had her taught, and learned myself for 
fun.” 

Henry crossed to the bookcase and came back with a 
photo, aph album in his hand. Taking a loose card 
from l ‘ween the pages, he put it down in front of 
Jane, saying: 


30 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ There you may as well make your host’s acquaint¬ 
ance.” 

Jane looked long at the face which was sufficiently 
well known to the public. The massive head, the 
great brow with eyes set very deep beneath shaggy 
tufts of hair, the rather hard mouth—all these were 
already familiar to her, and yet she looked long. After 
a few moments’ hesitation, Henry put a second photo¬ 
graph upon the top of the first, and this time Jane 
caught her breath. It was the picture of a woman in 
evening dress. The neck and shoulders were like 
those of a statue, beautiful and, as it were, rigid. But 
it was the beauty of the face that took Jane’s breath 
away—that and a certain look in the eyes. The word 
hungry came into her mind and stayed there. A 
woman with proud lips and hungry eyes, and the most 
beautiful face in the world. 

“ Who is it?” she asked. 

“ Raymond Carr-Magnus. She is Lady Heritage, 
and a widow now — Sir William’s only child. He 
gave her a boy’s name and a boy’s education—brought 
her up to take his place, and found himself with a 
lovely woman on his hands. This was done from 
Amory’s portrait of her in 1915—the year of her 
marriage. She was at one time engaged to my 
Cousin Anthony. If you do go to Luttrell Marches, 
you will see her, for she makes her home with 
Sir William.” 

Henry’s voice was perfectly expressionless. The 
short sentences followed one another with a little 
pause after each. Jane looked sideways, and sa r j very 
quick and low: r 

“ Were you very fond of her, Henry?” 

31 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


And when she had said it, her heart beat and her 
hands gripped one another. 

Henry took the photograph from her lap. 

“ I said she was engaged to Tony.” 

“ Yes, Henry, but were you fond of her?” 

“ Confound you, Jane. Yes, I was.” 

“ Well, I don’t wonder.” 

Jane rose to her feet. 

“ I must be going,” she said. “I have an assigna¬ 
tion with Arnold Todhunter, who is going to take me 
up a fire-escape and substitute me for Renata.” 

Henry took out a pocket-book. 

“ Will you give me Molloy’s address, please?” And 
when she had given it: “ You know, my good girl, 
there’s nothing on earth to prevent my having that 
flat raided and your cousin’s deposition taken.” 

“ No, of course not,” said Jane—“ only then nobody 
will go down to Luttrell Marches and find out what’s 
going on there.” 

She looked straight at Henry as she spoke. 

“ I’m going, whatever you say, and whatever you 
do, and I only came to you because-” 

“ Because-” 

“ Well, it seemed so sort of lonesome going off into 
situations of deadly peril with no one taking the very 
slightest interest.” 

Jane’s voice shook absurdly on the last word. And 
in an instant Henry had his arm round her and was 
saying, “ Jane—Jane—you shan’t go, you shan’t.” 

Jane stepped back. Her eyes blazed. “ And why?” 
she said. 

She tried to say it icily, but she could not steady her 
voice. Henry’s arm felt solid and comfortable. 

32 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“Because I’m damned if I’ll let you/’ said Henry 
very loud, and upon that the door opened and there 
entered Mrs. de Luttrelle March, larger, pinker, and 
more horrified than Jane had ever seen her. She, for 
her part, beheld Henry, his arms about a shabby 
girl, and her horror reached its climax when she 
recognised the girl as “ that dreadfully designing 
Jane Smith.” 

“ Henry,” she gasped—“ oh, Henry!” 

Jane released herself with a jerk, and Mrs. de Lut¬ 
trelle March sat down in the nearest chair and burst 
into a flood of tears. Her purple satin opera cloak fell 
away, disclosing a peach-coloured garment that clung 
to her plump contours and seemed calculated rather for 
purposes of revelation than concealment. Large tears 
rolled down her powdered cheeks, and she sought in 
vain for a handkerchief. 

“ Henry—I didn’t think it of you—at least not here, 
not under my very roof. And if you were going to 
break my heart like your father, it would have been 
kinder to do it ten years ago, because then I should 
have known what to expect, and anyhow, I should 
probably have been dead by now.” 

She sniffed and made a desperate gesture. 

“ Oh, Henry, I can’t find it! Haven’t you got one, 
or don’t you care whether my heart’s broken? And I 
haven’t even got a handkerchief to cry with.” 

Henry produced a handkerchief and gave it to her 
without attempting to speak. Years of experience 
had taught him that to stay his mother’s first flood of 
words was an impossibility. 

Jane felt rather sick. Mrs. March was so very large 
and pink, and the whole affair so very undignified, that 
33 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

her one overmastering desire was to get away. She 
heard Henry’s “ This is Miss Smith, Mother. She 
came to see me on business and then Mrs. March’s 
wail, “ Your father always called it business too, and 
I didn’t think—no, I didn’t think you’d bring a girl 
in here when my back was turned.” 

Jane stood up very straight, but Henry had taken 
her hand again. 

“ I beg your pardon,” he said, in a very low voice. 
“ She—she had a rotten time when she was young 
then, in a tone that cut through Mrs. March’s sobs 
as an east wind cuts the rain, he said: 

“ My dear mother, you are making some extra¬ 
ordinary mistake. The last time that I saw Miss Smith 
was three years ago. I then asked her to marry me, 
and she refused. I would go on asking her every day 
from now to kingdom come if I thought that it was the 
slightest good. As it isn’t, I am only anxious to be of 
use to her in any possible way. She came here to-night 
to ask my advice on an official matter.” 

Mrs. March fixed her very large blue eyes upon her 
son. They were swimming with tears, but behind the 
tears there was something which suddenly went to 
Jane’s heart—something bewildered and hurt, and 
rather ungrown-up. 

“ You always were a good boy, Henry,” said Mrs. 
March, and Henry’s instant rigid embarrassment had 
the effect of cheering Jane. She came forward and 
took the limp white hand that still clutched a borrowed 
handkerchief. 

“I’m sure he’ll always be a good son to you, and I 
wouldn’t take him away from you for the world. He’s 
just a very kind friend. Good-night, Mrs. March.” 

34 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

She went out without looking back, but Henry fol¬ 
lowed her into the hall. 

“ You’re not really going to plunge into this foolish 
affair?” he said as they stood for a moment by the 
door. It was Jane who opened it. 

“Yes, I am, Henry. You can’t stop me, and you 
know it.” 

Jane’s eyes looked straight into his, and Henry did 
know. 

“ Very well, then. Read the agony column in The 
Times. If I want you to have a message, it will be 
there, signed with the day of the week on which it 
appears. You understand? If the message is in 
The Times of Wednesday, it will be signed, ‘ Wednes¬ 
day.’ And if there are directions in the message, you 
will obey them implicitly.” 

“ How thrilling ,” said Jane. 

“ Is it?” 

Henry looked very tired. 

“ I don’t know if I’ve done right, but I can’t tell 
you any more just now. By the way, Molloy’s flat will 
be watched, and I shall know whether you go to 
Luttrell Marches or not. Good-bye, Jane.” 

“ Good-bye, Henry.” 

Henry watched the lift disappear. 


35 


CHAPTER IV 


“ / T A HIS,” said Arnold Todhunter, “ is the fire- 
escape.” His tone was that of one who says, 
“ This is our Rembrandt.” Proud proprietorship per¬ 
vaded his entire atmosphere. 

“ Ssh!” said Jane. 

They stood together in a small back-yard. It seemed 
to be quite full of things like barrows, paving-stones, 
old tin cans, and broken crockery. Jane had already 
tripped over a meat tin and collided with two chicken 
coops and a dog kennel. She reflected that this 
was just the sort of back-yard Arnold would 
find. 

Everything was very dark. The blackest shadow 
of all marked the wall that they were to climb. Here 
and there a lighted window showed, and Jane could 
see that these windows had rounded parapets jutting 
out on a level with the sill. 

Arnold, meanwhile, was tugging at something which 
seemed to be a short plank. 

“ What on earth?” she whispered. 

“ We shall need it. I’d better go first.” 

And forthwith he began to climb, clutching the 
plank with one hand and the iron ladder with the 
other. 

Jane let him get a good start, and followed. 

The ladder was quite easy to climb; it was only 
when one thought of how immensely far away the 
36 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


skyline had looked, that it seemed as if it would be 
very uncomfortable to look down instead of up, and to 
see that horrid little yard equally far below. 

Jane did look down once, and everything was black 
and blurred and shadowy. It was odd to be clinging to 
the side of a hbuse, with the dark all round one, and 
the steady roar of the London traffic dulled almost to 
nothingness. 

The night was very still, and a little cold. Some¬ 
where below amongst the tin cans a cat said, 
“ Grrrwoosh,” not loud, but on a softly inquiring note. 
The inquiry was instantly answered by a long, piercing 
wail which travelled rapidly over four octaves, and 
then dwelt with soulful intensity upon an agonising 
top note. 

With a muttered exclamation, Arnold Todhunter 
dropped his plank. It grazed Jane’s shoulder, and 
fell among the cats and crockery with a most appalling 
clatter. 

Jane shut her eyes, gripped the ladder desperately, 
and wondered whether she would fall first and be 
arrested afterwards, or the other way about. Nothing 
happened. Apparently the neighbourhood was inured 
to the bombardment of cats. 

After a moment Jane became aware of Arnold’s 
boots in close proximity to her head. A wave of fury 
swept away her giddiness, and she began to descend 
with a rapidity which surprised herself. 

Once more they stood in the yard. 

Once more Arnold groped for his plank. 

“ I’m going up first,” said Jane, in a low tone of 
rage. “ I won’t be guillotined on a public fire-escape. 
Which floor is it?” 


37 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ The top,” said Arnold sulkily, and without more 
ado Jane went up the ladder. 

It was exactly like a rather horrid dream. The 
ladder was very cold and very gritty, and you climbed, 
and climbed, and went on climbing without arriving 
anywhere. 

Pictures of the Eiffel Tower and New York sky¬ 
scrapers flitted through Jane’s mind. She also remem- 
. bered interesting paragraphs about how many million 
pennies placed on end would reach to the moon. And- 
at long, long last the escape ended at a window-sill 
with a parapet-enclosed space beneath it. 

Jane sat down on the window-sill and shut her eyes 
tight. She had a horrid feeling that the building was 
rocking a little. After a moment Arnold crawled 
over the edge of the coping, dragging his plank. He 
was panting. 

“ This,” he said, with his mouth close to Jane’s 
ear—“ this window only leads to the landing where the 
lift shaft ends. We’ve got to get across to the next 
one, which is inside Molloy’s flat. That’s what the 
plank is for.” 

“ You’re blowing down my neck,” said Jane. 

Arnold Todhunter felt that he had never met a 
girl whom he disliked so much. Extraordinary 
that she should look so like Renata and be so 
different. 

He knelt just inside the parapet, and pushed the 
board slowly out into the dark until it rested on the 
parapet of the next window. 

“ Will you go first, or shall I?” he whispered. 

“ I will.” 

Jane felt sure that, if she had to watch Arnold 
38 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

balancing on that plank miles above the ground, she 
would never be able to cross it herself. 

The reflection that it was Renata, and not she, who 
would have to make the descent fortified her con¬ 
siderably. Even so, she never quite knew how she 
crossed to the other window. It was an affair of 
clenched teeth and a mind that shut out resolutely 
everything except the next groping clutch of the 
hand—the next carefully taken step. 

She sank against the window-sill and heard Arnold 
follow her. Just at the end he slipped; he seemed to 
change his feet, and then with a heavy thud pitched 
down on the top of Jane. 

She thought he said “Damn!” and she was quite 
sure that she said “ Idiot!” 

There was an awful moment while they listened for 
the fall of the plank, but it held to the coping by a 
bare half-inch. 

“ Thank goodness I’m not Renata!” said Jane, with 
heartfelt sincerity. And— 

“Thank goodness, you’re not!” returned Mr. Tod- 
hunter, with equal fervour, and at that moment the 
window opened. 

There was a little sobbing gasp, and a girl was cling¬ 
ing to Arnold Todhunter and whispering: 

“ Darling—darling, I thought you’d never come.” 

Arnold crawled through the open window, and from 
the pitch-black hall there came the sounds of demon¬ 
strative affection. 

“ Good gracious me, there’s no accounting for 
tastes!” said Jane, under her breath. And she too 
climbed down into the darkness. 

Arnold appeared to be trying to explain Jane to 
39 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Renata, whilst Renata alternated between sobs and 
kisses. 

Jane lost her temper, suddenly and completely. 

“ For goodness’ sake, you two, come where there’s a 
light, and where we can talk sense. Every minute you 
waste is just asking for trouble. What’s that room 
with the light?” 

It is difficult to be impressive in a low whisper, but 
Renata did stop kissing Arnold. 

“ My bedroom,” she said—“ I’m supposed to be 
locked in.” 

Jane groped in the dark and got Renata by the arm. 

“ Come along in there and talk to me. We’ve got to 
talk. Arnold can wait outside the window. I don’t 
want him in the least. You’re going to spend the rest 
of your life with him in Bolivia, so you needn’t worry. 
I simply won’t have him whilst we are talking.” 

Arnold loathed Jane a little more, but Renata 
allowed herself to be detached from him with a sob. 

Inside the lighted bedroom the two girls looked at 
one another in an amazed silence. 

In height and contour, feature and colouring, the 
likeness was without a flaw. 

Facing them was a small wardrobe of painted wood. 
A narrow panel of looking-glass formed the door. The 
two figures were reflected in it, and Jane, tossing her 
hat on to the bed, studied them there with a long, care¬ 
ful scrutiny. 

The same brown hair, growing in the same odd peak 
upon the forehead, the same arch to the brow, the same 
greenish-hazel eyes. Renata’s face was tear-stained, 
her eyelids red and swollen—“ but that’s exactly how I 
look when I cry,” said Jane. She set her hand by 
40 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Renata’s hand, her foot by Renata’s foot. The same 
to a shade. 

The other girl watched her with bewildered eyes. 

“ Speak—say something,” said Jane. 

“ What shall I say?” 

“ Anything—the multiplication table, the days of 
the week—I want to hear your voice.” 

“ Oh, Jane, what an odd girl you are!” said Renata 
—“ and don’t you think Arnold had better come in? 
It must be awfully cold out there.” 

“ Presently,” said Jane. “It’s very hard to tell, 
but I believe that our voices are as much alike as the 
rest of us.” 

She opened her bag, and took out The List and a pencil. 

“ Now, write something—I don’t care what.” 

Renata wrote her own name, and then, after a 
pause, “ It is a fine day.” 

“ Quite like,” said Jane, “ but nearly all girls do 
write the same hand now. I can manage that. Now, 
tell me, where were you at school?” 

“ Miss Bazing’s, Ilfracombe.” 

“ When did you leave?” 

“ Two months ago.” 

“ Have you been in America?” 

“ Not since I was five.” 

“ Anywhere else out of England?” 

“ No.” 

“ What languages do you know?” 

“ French—I’m not good at it.” 

“ Well, that’s that. Now, Arnold tells me you heard 
them say you were to go to Luttrell Marches?” 

Renata looked terrified. 

“ Yes, yes, I did.” 


41 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ You’re not supposed to know? They haven’t told 
you officially?” 

“ No—no, they haven’t told me anything.” 

“ Your father goes away to-morrow. Have they 
told you that?” 

“ I can’t remember,” said Renata, bursting into 
tears. “ Oh, Jane, you don’t know what it’s like!—to 
be locked in here—to have them come and ask ques¬ 
tions until I don’t know what I’m saying—and to know, 
to know all the time that if I make one slip I’m lost.” 

“ Yes, yes, but it’s going to be all right,” said Jane. 

“ I can’t sleep,” sobbed Renata, “ and I can’t eat.” 
She held up her wrist and looked at it with interest. 
“ I’ve got ever so much thinner.” 

Jane could have slapped her. She reflected with 
thankfulness that Bolivia was a good long way off. 

“ Now, look here,” she said, “ you talk about 
‘ they ’—who are ‘ they ’?” 

“ There’s a man in a fur coat,” faltered Renata— 
“ that is to say, he generally has on a fur coat; he 
always seems to be cold. He’s the worst; I don’t 
know his name, but they call him Number Two. 
He’s English. Then there’s Number Four. He’s a 
foreigner of some sort, and he’s dreadful—dreadful. 
I think—I think ”—her voice dropped to a whisper— 
“ my father is Number Three.” Then almost inaudibly, 
“ Number One is at Luttrell Marches. It’s Number 
One who will decide about me—about me. Oh, Jane, 
I’m so dreadfully frightened!” 

Renata’s eyes, wide and terrified, stared past Jane 
into vacancy. 

“You needn’t be in the least frightened; you’re 
going to Bolivia,” said Jane briskly. 

42 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ I must tell some one,” said Renata, still in that 
whispering voice—still staring. “ I didn’t tell them, 
I wouldn’t tell them, but I must tell some one. Jane, 
I must tell you what I heard.” 

Quick as lightning Jane put her hand over the other 
girl’s mouth. 

“ Wait!” she said, and in the pause that followed 
two things stood out in her mind clear and sharp. If 
Renata told her secret, Jane’s danger would be doubled. 
If Renata did not tell it, the crime these men were 
planning might ripen undisturbed. Jane had a high 
courage, but she hesitated. 

Her hand dropped slowly to her side. She saw 
Renata’s mouth open protestingly, and there came on 
her a wild impulse to stave things off, to have time, 
just a little time before she let that secret in. 

“ We’ve got to change clothes,” she said. “ Quick, 
give me that skirt and take mine. Yes, put on the 
coat, and I’ll give you my shoes, too. My hat’s on the 
bed; you’d better put it on.” 

Renata obeyed. A resentful feeling of being hustled, 
ordered about, treated like a child, was upon her; but 
Jane moved and spoke so quickly, and seemed so sure 
of herself, that there seemed no opening for protest. 
She thought Jane’s blue serge shabby and old fashioned 
—not nearly as nice as her own—and Jane’s shoes 
were terribly worn and needed mending. 

“ Now, listen,” said Jane. 

“If Arnold likes to go to my rooms and pay up two 
weeks’ rent, he can get my box and all my other 
clothes for you. There’s not very much, but it’ll be 
better than nothing. I’ll write a line for him to take, 
and put the address on it. And will you please remem- 
43 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


ber now and from henceforth that you are Jane Renata 
Smith, and not Renata Jane Molloy?” 

Jane was scribbling a couple of lines as she spoke, 
and as she turned and gave the paper into Renata’s 
hand, she knew that she must decide now. The 
moment of grace was up, and whether she bade Renata 
speak or be silent, there could be no drawing back. 

“ What were you going to tell me?” she said. 

Renata stood silent for a long minute. She was 
twisting and turning the slip of paper which Jane 
had given her. She looked down at her twisting 
fingers; her breath began to come more quickly. Then 
with great suddenness she pushed the note into her 
pocket, and caught at Jane with both hands. 

“ Yes, I must tell you—I must. It will be coming 
nearer all the time, and I must tell some one, or I shall 
go mad.” 

“ Tell me, then,” said Jane. “You were walking 
in your sleep, and you opened the door and heard— 
what did you hear?” 

Jane’s eyes were bright and steady, her face set. 
She had taken her decision, and her courage rose to 
meet an unknown shock. 

“ I was walking in my sleep,” repeated Renata, in 
a low, faltering voice, “ and I opened the door, and I 
heard-” 

“ What did you hear?” 

“ There was a screen in front of me, and just beyond 
the screen a man talking. I heard—oh, Jane, I heard 
every single word he said! I can’t forget one of them 
—if I could, if I only could!” 

“ What did you hear?” said Jane firmly. 

Renata’s grip became desperate. She leant forward 
44 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


until her lips touched Jane’s ear. In a voice that was 
only a breath, she gave word for word, sentence by 
sentence, the speech in which Number Four had pro¬ 
claimed the death sentence of the civilised world. It was 
just a bald transcript like the whisper of a phonograph 
record, as if the words and sentences had been stamped 
on an inanimate plate by some recording machinery, to 
be released again with utter regularity and correctness. 

Every vestige of colour left Jane’s face as she 
listened. Only her eyes remained bright and steady. 
Something seemed to knock at her heart. Renata’s 
last mechanical repetition died away, and with a sob 
of relief she flung her arms round Jane. 

“ Oh, Jane, I do hope they won’t kill you! Oh, I 
do hope they won’t!” 

“ So do I,” said Jane. 

She detached herself from Renata, and as she did 
so, both girls heard the same thing—from beyond the 
two closed doors the groan and grind of the lift 
machinery in motion. 

“ They’ve come back,” said Renata, in a whisper 
of terror. 

Jane’s hand was on the electric-light switch before 
the words had left Renata’s lips. 

As darkness sprang upon the room she had the door 
open. Her grip was on Renata’s wrist, her arm about 
Renata’s waist, and they were in the hall. It seemed 
pitch black at first, with a gloom that pressed upon 
their eyes and confused the sense of direction. 

The lift rose with a steady rumble. 

Then, as Jane stared before her, the oblong of the 
window sprang into view. She took a step forward 
and felt Renata’s head against her shoulder. 

45 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ I’m going to faint,” came in a gasp. 

“ Then you’ll never see Arnold again. Do you want 
to be caught like this?” 

“ Jane, I can’t.” 

Jane dragged her on. 

“ Renata, you rabbit!—if they don’t kill you, I will. 
Faint in Bolivia as much as you like, but I forbid you 
to do it here.” 

“ Oh, Jane!” 

Jane’s arm felt the weight of a limp, sagging figure, 
but they had reached the window. From the sill 
Arnold bent, listening anxiously. 

“Quick!” gasped Jane. 

And, as his arm relieved the strain, she pinched 
Renata with all her might. There was a sob—a gasp— 
Arnold lifted, Jane pushed, and somehow the thing was 
done. Arnold and Renata were outside, crouched down 
between the parapet and the window, whilst Jane 
leaned panting against the jamb. 

As the lift stopped with a jerk, her rigid fingers drew 
the window down and fastened it. Now, horribly loud, 
the clang of the iron gate. Steps outside—voices— 
the grate of a key in the lock. 

Jane knew now what Renata had felt. Easy, so easy 
to yield to this paralysis of terror, and to stand rooted 
there until they came! With all her might she pushed 
the temptation from her and roused to action. 

Thank Heaven, she had had no time to put on 
Renata’s shoes! 

After the first movement strength and swiftness 
came to her. She was across the hall without a sound. 
The bedroom door closed upon her. As it did so, the 
door of the flat swung wide. 

46 


CHAPTER V 


J ANE stood in the dark, her hand upon the door 
knob. Slowly, very slowly, she released it. As she 
leaned there, her head almost touching the panelling, 
she could hear two men talking in the hall beyond. 
They spoke in English, but only the outer sound of the 
words came to her. 

With an immense effort she straightened herself, 
and was about to move away when a thought struck 
her like a knife-blow—the key—the second tell-tale 
key—if she had forgotten it! 

Her hand slid back, touched the cold key, turned 
and withdrew it, moving with a steady firmness that 
surprised herself. 

Then she made a half-turn and tried to visualise the 
room as she had seen it in the light. 

Immediately opposite, the cupboard with the looking- 
glass panel. The window in the right-hand wall, and 
the bed between window and cupboard. At the foot 
of the bed a chair, and on the same side as the 
window a chest of drawers with a looking-glass upon it 
and Renata’s plain schoolgirlish brush and comb. 

When she had placed everything, Jane began to 
move forward in the direction of the window. Her 
left hand touched the rail of the bed-foot, her right, 
groping, brushed the counterpane and rested on some¬ 
thing oddly familiar. Her heart gave a sudden jerk, 
for this was her own bag, which Renata should have 
47 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


taken. She opened it with quick, trembling fingers, 
took out her handkerchief, and then stuffed the bag 
right down inside the bed. 

A couple of steps brought her to the window, and she 
pressed closely to it, listening, and wished she dared to 
open it. There was no sound from outside. She 
leaned her forehead against the glass, and wondered 
how many years had passed since the morning. It 
seemed impossible for this day to come to an end. 

Then quite suddenly a key turned in the lock, and 
the door opened, not widely, but as one opens the door 
of a room where some one is asleep. A man’s head was 
silhouetted against the hall light. Part of his shoulder 
showed in a dark overcoat. 

He spoke, and a hint of brogue beneath a good deal 
of American twang informed Jane that this was her 
official father. 

“ Are you awake, Renata?”—and, as he asked the 
question, a second man came up behind him and stood 
there listening. 

“ Yes,” said Jane, muffling her voice with her hand¬ 
kerchief. 

He hesitated a moment, and then said: 

“ Well, good-night to you ”—and the other man, 
speaking over his shoulder, said in an easy, cultivated 
voice without any accent at all: 

“ Pleasant dreams, Miss Renata.” 

Jane’s “ Good-night ” was just audible and no more, 
but obviously it satisfied the two men, for the door was 
shut, the key turned and withdrawn, and presently the 
hall light went out, and the darkness was absolute and 
unrelieved, except where the midnight sky showed 
just less black than the interior of the room. 

48 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


After what seemed a long, long time, Jane undressed 
and got to bed. It was strange to grope for and find 
Renata’s neatly folded nightdress. 

Presently she lay down, and presently she slept. 
Time ceased; the day was over. 

She woke suddenly a few hours later. It was still 
dark. She came broad awake at once, and sat up in 
bed as if some one had called to her. Her mind was 
full of one horrifying thought. 

The plank—what had Arnold done with the plank? 

Impossible that he should have helped Renata down 
the fire-escape and carried the plank as well, and some¬ 
how Jane did not see Arnold troubling to come back 
for it. 

One thing was certain; if Arnold had left the plank 
in its compromising position, it must be removed before 
daylight. 

Jane got out of bed, shivering. She went to the 
window, opened it, and leaned out. The yard, mews, 
wall, and parapet—all were veiled in the same thick 
dusk. She strained her eyes, but it was impossible to 
distinguish anything. There was nothing for it but to 
cross that horrid little hall again, open the window, and 
make sure. 

With the key in her hand, and mingled rage and 
terror in her heart, she felt her way to the door, opened 
it noiselessly, and crossed barefoot to the window. 
The hasp was stiff, it creaked, and the window stuck. 

Recklessness took possession of Jane. With a jerk 
she pushed it up; as it chanced, recklessness made less 
noise than caution would have done. She leaned 
right out, and there, sure enough, was the plank. 

Even Jane’s anger could provide her with nothing 
49 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


more cutting than, “ How exactly like Arnold Tod- 
hunter.” 

She stood quite still and considered. 

A bold course was the only one. Remembering the 
plank’s previous fall and the perfect calm with which 
the neighbourhood had received it, she decided to take 
the same chance again—only, she must be quick and 
have it all planned in her head: first a shove to the 
plank, then down with the window and latch it, five 
steps—no, six—across the hall, and then her own door, 
and on no account must she forget the key. 

She drew a long breath, leaned out, and pushed. The 
board was heavier than she had supposed—harder to 
move. She had to pull it in, until the sudden weight 
and strain told her that it was clear of the coping upon 
which the farther end had rested. Then she pushed 
with all her might, and as it fell, her hands were on the 
window quick and steady. Next moment she was 
crouching in Renata’s bed, the clothes clutched about 
her, the door key cold in her palm. She pushed it 
far down beneath the clothes, and sat breathless— 
listening. 

The crash with which the plank had landed seemed 
to have deafened her, but as the vibrations died away, 
she heard, sharp and unmistakable, the click of a latch 
and hurrying footsteps. 

The next moment her door was opened and her light 
switched on. Quick as thought her hand was over 
her eyes and the sheet up to her chin. 

Molloy stood in the doorway, and beyond him the 
other. 

“ What’s doing? Did you hear it?” he stammered, 
and then the other man pushed him aside. 

50 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Fd like a look from your window if you’ll excuse 
me, Miss Renata,” he said, and crossed the room. 

As he leaned out, Jane watched him from beneath 
her hand, and recalled Renata’s words, “He generally 
wears a fur coat; they call him Number Two.” This 
man wore a fur coat over pale blue silk pyjamas. 
When he turned, saying, “ I can’t see a thing,” she was 
ready with her stammered, “ What was it?” 

“ You heard it, then?” said Molloy. 

“ Such a fearful crash! It—it frightened me most 
dreadfully,”—and here Jane spoke the literal truth. 

“ I don’t know.” It was Molloy who answered 
again, but the other man’s eyes travelled round the 
room, and a feeling of terror came over Jane. 

If she had forgotten anything, if there were one 
shred of incriminating evidence, those eyes would miss 
nothing! She felt as if they must pierce the bed¬ 
clothes and see her bag and the hidden key, but he 
merely nodded to Molloy, and they left the room, 
switching out the light and locking the door. 

Jane drew a long breath of relief, turned upon her 
side, and in five minutes was asleep again. 

The day came in with a thick mist. Jane opened her 
eyes upon it sleepily. 

She began to think what a strange dream she had 
had, and then, as sleep ebbed from her, she remem¬ 
bered that it was not a dream at all. She was Renata 
Molloy under lock and key, and in front of her 
stretched a day that might be even more crowded with 
adventure than yesterday. 

She jumped out of bed, and as she dressed her eyes 
brightened and her courage rose. With Renata’s 
scissors she unpicked the initials which marked her 
51 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


underclothes. This was a game at which one must not 
make a single slip. Her bag worried her a little, but 
it was just such a plain leather bag as any one might 
possess. She ransacked it carefully, and frowned over 
an envelope addressed to Miss Jane Smith. What in 
the world was she to do with it? 

There were no matches, so it could not be burned. 
After some thought she soaked it in water, scratched 
the name to shreds with a hairpin, and crumpling the 
wet paper into a ball, tossed it out of the window. 

By the time her door was unlocked, she was very 
hungry. This time, it appeared, she was being sum¬ 
moned to bid the departing Mr. Molloy a fond farewell. 

His luggage was already being carried out to the lift, 
and two or three men were coming and going. The 
man in the fur coat stood with his back to the window, 
smoking a cigarette. Obviously Molloy’s farewell was 
not to be said in private. 

Jane looked at him with some curiosity—a tall man, 
strongly built, with a bold air and a florid complexion. 

It was he who had opened the door, and he stood still 
holding the handle and looking, not at Jane, but over 
her shoulder. For this she felt grateful. 

“ Well, well then, I’m off,” said Molloy. “You’ll 
be a good girl and do as you’re bid, and I’ll be having 
you out to keep house for me in less than no time.” 

From what she had seen of Renata, Jane fancied that 
a sob would meet the occasion. She therefore sobbed, 
and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. 

“ There, there,” said Molloy hastily. 

He bent and deposited an awkward kiss upon the top 
of her head. Then he took his hand from the door 
and was gone. 


52 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

The lift gate clanged, and Jane realised that the real 
adventure had begun. 

The man by the window threw the end of his 
cigarette into the fireplace and came towards her. 

“ Parental devotion is a beautiful thing, isn’t it, 
Miss Renata? Suppose we have some breakfast.” 

A meal, a proper meal, enough to eat! As she 
passed into the dining-room and beheld a ham, coffee, 
and boiled eggs, Jane felt as if she could confront 
any one or anything. Besides, the first trick was 
hers. 

In the full light of day, and under those cold, pale 
eyes, she had passed as Renata. 

She allowed herself to sigh and dab her eyes, and 
then—oh, how good was the rather stale bread, the 
London egg, and the indifferent ham. 

The man watched her quizzically. 

As she finished her second cup of coffee, he remarked 
that she had a good appetite, and there was something 
in his tone that cast a chill upon the proceedings. 

Jane pushed back her chair. 

“ I’ve finished,” she said. 

“ Well, then,” said the man, “ I think we must talk. 
Yes, sit down again, please. I won’t keep you very 
long.” 

Jane did as she was told. 

“ Well, Molloy’s gone,” he said. “You know what 
that means? He’s washed his hands of you. Just 
in case—just in case, you’ve been relying on Molloy, 
I would like to point out to you that his own position 
is none too secure. The firm he works for has not been 
entirely satisfied with him for some time. It is, there¬ 
fore, quite out of the question that he should influence 
53 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


any decision that may be come to with regard to your¬ 
self. His going off like this shows that he realises 
the position and accepts it. Self-preservation is 
Molloy’s trump suit, first, last, and all the time. I 
shouldn’t advise you to count upon trifles like parental 
devotion, or anything of that sort. In a word—he 
can’t help you, but I can” 

The man leaned forward as he spoke, and a sudden 
smile changed his features. 

“ Just be frank,” he went on. “ Tell me what you 
really heard, and I’ll see you through.” 

Jane let her eyes meet his. That smile had puzzled 
her; it was so spontaneous and charming, but it did 
not reach his eyes. 

She looked and found them cold and opaque, and as 
she looked, she saw the pupils narrow, expand, and 
then narrow again. 

He got up from his chair, walked to the mantelpiece, 
stopped for a light to his cigarette, and came back 
again with a thin blue haze of smoke about him. 

“ Perhaps I haven’t been altogether frank with you,” 
he said. “ That little romance of mine about a firm of 
chemists who employ your father—you didn’t really 
believe it? No, I thought not. The fact is, that first 
night I took you for just a schoolgirl, and one can’t 
tell schoolgirls everything. But now, now I’m talk¬ 
ing to you as a woman. I can’t tell you everything, 
even so, but I can tell you this. It’s a Government 
matter, a most important one, and it is vital that I 
should know just what you overheard.” 

Jane looked down. 

“ I don’t understand,” she said in a low voice. “ I 
was dreaming and I waked up suddenly. There was a 
54 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


screen in front of me, and some one on the other side 
of the screen called out very loud, ‘ The door, the 
door!’ That’s what I heard.” 

She felt the pale eyes upon her face. Then with an 
abrupt movement the man came over to her. 

“ Stand up,” he said. 

Jane stood up. 

“ Look at me.” 

Jane looked at him. 

After what seemed like a very long time, he threw 
out his hand with an impatient gesture. It struck the 
table edge with a sharp rap, the spring that held his 
wrist watch gave, and the watch on its gold curb flew 
off and fell on the floor behind Jane. 

She turned, glad of an excuse to turn, and bent to 
pick it up. The back of the watch was open; her 
fingers caught and closed it instantly, but not for 
nothing had she told Henry that she had gimlet eyes. 
The back of the watch contained a photograph, and 
Jane had seen the photograph before. Henry’s voice 
sounded in her ears. “ It was done from Amory’s por¬ 
trait of her, in 1915—the year of her marriage.” 

Number Two, the man in the fur coat, Renata’s 
“ worst of them all,” had in the back of his watch a 
photograph of Lady Heritage! 

Jane laid the watch on the table without giving it 
a second glance. 


55 


CHAPTER VI 


S the watch slid back into its place beneath his 



shirt cuff, the man spoke with an entire change 
of manner. 

“ Well, Miss Renata, that was all very stiff and 
businesslike. You mustn’t hold it up against me, 
because I hope we’re going to be friends. Don’t you 
want to know your plans?” 

Jane looked at him with a little frown. 

“ My plans?” 

“ What is going to happen to you. Oh, please, 
don’t look so grave! It’s nothing very dreadful. 
You have heard of Sir William Carr-Magnus?” 

“ Yes, of course,” said Jane. She hoped that she 
looked innocent and surprised. 

“ Well,” said the man in the fur coat, “ I happen to 
be his secretary, and that reminds me, I don’t believe 
you know my name. Your father and his friends use 
a ridiculous nickname which sticks to me like a 
burr . . . but let me introduce myself—Jeffrey Ember, 
and your friend, if you will have me.” 

The charming smile just touched his face, and then 
he said in a quiet, serious way: 

“ Sir William’s daughter, Lady Heritage, has 
commissioned me to find her an amanuensis—com¬ 
panion—no, that’s not quite right either. She doesn’t 
want a trained stenographer, or a young person with 
a business training, but she wants a girl in the house 


56 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


—some one who’ll do what she’s told, write notes, 
arrange the flowers. ... I dare say you can guess 
the sort of thing. She is willing to give you a trial, 
and your father has agreed. As a matter of fact, 
I’m taking you down there to-day.” 

“Oh!” said Jane, because she seemed expected to 
say something, and for the life of her she could not 
think of anything else to say. 

“ I’m afraid you’ll have to submit to certain restric¬ 
tions at Luttrell Marches. You see, Sir William is 
engaged upon some very important experiments for 
the Government, and all the members of his house¬ 
hold have to conform to certain regulations. Their 
letters must be censored, and they must not leave the 
grounds, which are, however, extremely delightful and 
extensive. It isn’t much of a hardship, really.” 

“ Oh no,” said Jane in her best schoolgirl manner. 

And there the interview ended. 

They made the journey to Luttrell Marches by car, 
but, after the manner of Mrs. Gilpin’s post-chaise, 
it did not pick them up at the door. An ordinary 
taxi conveyed them to Victoria Station, and it was in 
the station yard that they and their luggage were 
picked up by the Rolls-Royce with the Carr-Magnus 
crest upon the door. 

The mist was thinner, and as they came clear of 
London, the sun came out. The day warmed into 
beauty, and the green growth of the countryside 
seemed to be expanding before their eyes. So many 
long hedges running into a blur, so many miles of road 
all slipping past. Jane fell fast asleep, and did not 
know how long she slept. 

It was in the late afternoon that they came into the 
57 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Marsh country—great flat stretches of it, set with 
boggy tussocks and intersected by straight lanes of 
water. Purple-brown and green it stretched for miles. 
To the right a humped line of upland, but to the left, 
and as far as the eye could see in front, nothing but 
marsh. Then the road rose a little; the ground was 
firmer and carried a black pine or two. 

They came to a three-cross way and turned sharply 
to the right. The ground rose more and *more. They 
climbed a steep hill, zigzagging between banked-up 
hedges to make the rise, and came out upon a bare 
upland. Ahead of them one saw a high stone wall 
pierced by iron gates. The car stopped. Mr. Ember 
leaned out, and after a pause the gates swung inwards. 

For a mile the drive lay through a flat waste of 
springing bracken, with here and there a group of 
wind-driven trees, then a second gate through a high 
fencing topped with wire. An avenue of trees led 
up to the house, a huge grey pile set against a sky full 
of little racing clouds. 

Jane felt stiff and bewildered with the long drive. 
She followed Mr. Ember up a flight of granite steps 
and came into the great hall of Luttrell Marches 
with its panelled walls and dark old portraits of 
half-forgotten Luttrells. 

Exactly opposite the entrance rose the stairway 
which was the pride of the house. Its beautiful 
proportions, the grapes and vine leaves of its famous 
carvings, were lighted from beneath by the red glow 
of a huge open fire, and from above by the last word 
in electric lighting. 

Ember walked straight across the hall and up the 
stair, and Jane followed him. 

58 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

She thought she knew exactly how a puppy must 
feel when, blinking from the warmth and straw of his 
basket, he comes for the first time into the ordered 
solemnity of his new master’s house. 

And then she looked up and saw The Portrait. 

It hung on the panelling at the top of the stair 
where the long corridors ran off to right and left, and 
it took Jane’s breath away—the portrait of Lady 
Heritage. 

Amory had painted more than a beautiful woman 
standing on a marble terrace: he had painted a woman 
Mercury. The hands held an ivory rod—diamond 
wings rose from the cloudy hair. Under the bright 
wings the eyes looked out, looked far—dark, splendid, 
hungry eyes. 

“ The earth belongs to her, and she despises it,” 
was Jane’s thought. 

She stood staring at the portrait. Nineteen-fifteen, 
Henry had said—the year when other women posed 
with folded linen hiding their hair and the red cross 
worn like a blazon. She could think of several famous 
beauties who had been painted thus. But this woman 
wore her diamond wings, though, even as she wore 
them, Fate had done its worst to her, for Anthony 
Luttrell was a name with other names in a list of 
missing, and no man knew his grave. 

A sharp clang of metal upon metal startled Jane. 
She looked quickly to her right, and saw that a steel 
gate completely barred the entrance to the corridor on 
that side. It had just closed behind a curious white- 
draped figure. 

“ Ah, Jeffrey,” said a voice—a deep, rather husky 
voice—and the figure came forward. 

59 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Jane saw that it was a woman wearing a long white 
linen overall, and a curious linen head-dress, which she 
was undoing and pushing back as she walked. She 
pulled it off as she came up to them, saying, “ It’s so 
hot in there I can hardly breathe, but too fascinating 
to leave. You’re early. Is this Miss Molloy?” 

She put out her hand to Jane, and Jane, with her 
mind full of the portrait, looked open-eyed at its 
original. 

Afterwards she tried to formulate her sensations, 
but, at the time, she received just that emotional 
shock which most people experienced when they first 
met Raymond Heritage. 

Beautiful—but there are so many beautiful women. 
Charming? No, there was rather something that 
repelled, antagonised. In her presence Jane felt untidy, 
shabby, gauche. 

Lady Heritage unbuttoned her overall and slipped it 
off. She wore a plain white knitted skirt and jersey. 
Her fingers were bare even of the wedding ring which 
Jane looked for and missed. Her black hair was a 
little ruffled, and above the temples, where Amory 
had painted diamond wings, there were streaks of 
grey. 

Bewilderment came down on Jane like a thick mist, 
which clung about her during the brief interchange of 
sentences which followed, and went with her to her 
room. 

It was a queer room with a rounded wall set with 
three windows and to right and left irregular of line, 
with a jutting corner here and a blunted angle there. 
It faced west, for the sun shone level in her eyes. 

Crossing to the window, as most people do when they 
60 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


come into a strange room, she looked out and caught 
her breath with amazement. 

The sea—why, it seemed to lie just beneath the 
windows! 

They had driven up from the landward side, and this 
was her first hint that the sea was so near. 

There was a wide gravel terrace, a stone wall set with 
formal urns full of blue hyacinths, the sharp fall of the 
cliff, and then the sea. 

The tide was in, the sun low, and a wide golden path 
seemed to stretch almost from Jane’s feet to the far 
horizon. Overhead the little racing clouds that told of 
a wind high up were golden too. 

The humped ridge of upland, which Jane had seen as 
they drove, ran out to sea on the right hand. It ended 
in low, broken cliff, and a line of jagged rocks of which 
only the points stood clear. 

Jane turned from all the beauty outside to the 
ordered comfort within. Hot water in a brass can that 
she could see her face in, a towel of such fine linen that 
it was a joy to touch it, this pretty white-panelled 
room, the chintzes where bright butterflies hovered over 
roses and sweet-peas—she stood and looked at it all, 
and she heard Renata’s words, “ At Luttrell Marches 
they will decide whether I am to be eliminated.” 

This curious dual sense remained with her during the 
days that followed. Life at Luttrell Marches was 
simple and regular. She wrote letters, gathered flowers, 
unpacked the library books, and kept out of Sir 
William’s way. 

Sir William, she decided, was exactly like his photo¬ 
graph, only a good deal more so; his eyebrows more 
tufted, his chin more jutting, and his eyes harder. 

61 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

For a philanthropist he had a singularly bad temper, 
and for so eminent a scientist a very frivolous taste in 
literature. One of Jane’s duties was to provide him 
with novels. She ransacked library lists and trembled 
over the results of her labours. 

Sir William did not always join the ladies after din¬ 
ner, but when he did so he would read a novel at a 
sitting and ask for more. 

Mr. Ember was never absent, and when Lady 
Heritage talked, it was to him that her words were 
addressed. Sometimes she would disappear inside the 
steel gate for hours. 

Jane soon learnt that the whole of the north wing 
was given up to Sir William’s experiments. On each 
floor a steel gate shut it off from the rest of the house. 
All the windows were barred from top to bottom. 

She also discovered that the high paling where the 
avenue began had, on its inner side, an apron of barbed 
wire, and it was the upper strand of this apron which 
she had seen as they approached from outside. 

Sir William’s experiments employed a considerable 
number of men. These, she learned, were lodged in the 
stables, and neither they nor any of the domestic staff 
were permitted to pass beyond the inner paling. 

On the coast side there was a high wire entanglement 
—electrified. 

There were moments when Jane was cold with fear, 
and moments when she told herself that Renata was a 
little fool who had had nightmare. 


62 


CHAPTER VII 


HEN Jane stood at her window and looked 



vv across the sea, she saw what might have been 
a picture of life at Luttrell Marches during those first 
few days. Such a smooth stretch of water, pleasant to 
the eye, where blue and green, amethyst, grey and 
silver came and went, and under the play of colour and 
the shifting light and shade of day and evening, the 
unchanging black of rocks which showed for an instant 
and then left one guessing whether anything had really 
broken the beauty and the peace. 

Over the surface all was pleasant enough, but inci¬ 
dents, some of them almost negligible in themselves, 
kept recurring to remind Jane that there were rocks 
beneath the sea. 

The first incident came up suddenly whilst she 
was writing Lady Heritage’s letters on the second 
day. 

She had beside her a little pile of correspondence, 
mostly about trifles. Upon each letter there was 
scrawled, “ Yes ”—“ No ”—“ Tell them I’ll think it 
over,” or some such direction. 

Presently Jane arrived at a letter in French, upon 
which Lady Heritage had written, “ Make an English 
translation and enclose to Mrs. Blunt.” Mrs. Blunt’s 
own letter lay immediately underneath. It contained 
inquiries about some conditions of factory labour 
amongst women in France. 


63 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


The French letter was an excellent exposition of the 
said conditions. 

Jane sat looking at it, and wondering whether Renata 
could have translated a single line of it, and how much 
ignorance it would behove her to display. 

After a moment’s thought she turned round and said 
timidly, “ May I have a dictionary, please?” 

Lady Heritage looked up from the papers before her. 
She frowned and said: 

“ A dictionary?” 

“ Yes, for the French letter.” 

“ You don’t know French, then?” 

Jane met the half-sarcastic look with protest. 

“ Oh yes, I do. But, if I might have a 
dictionary-” 

Lady Heritage pointed to the bookcase and went 
back to her papers. 

An imp of mischief entered into Jane. 

She took the dictionary and spent the next half-hour 
in producing a translation with just the right amount 
of faults in it. She put it down in front of her em¬ 
ployer with a feeling of triumph. 

“ Please, will this do?” 

Lady Heritage looked, frowned, and tore the paper 
across. 

“ I thought you said you knew French?” 

Jane fidgeted with her pen: 

“ Of course I know I’m not really good at it, but I 
looked out all the words I didn’t know.” 

“ There must have been a good many,” was Lady 
Heritage’s comment, and the imp made Jane raise 
innocent eyes and say: 

“ Oh, there were!” 


64 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

She went back to her table, and Lady Heritage spoke 
over her shoulder to Mr. Ember, who appeared to be 
searching for a book at the far end of the room. She 
spoke in French—the low, rapid French of the woman 
to whom one language is the same as another. 

“ What do they teach at English schools, can you 
tell me, Jeffrey? This girl says she knows French, and 

if she can follow one word I am saying now-” She 

broke off and shrugged. “ Yet I dare say she went to 
an expensive school. Now, I had a Bavarian maid, 
educated in the ordinary village school, and she spoke 
English with ease, and French better than any English 
schoolgirl I’ve come across. Wait whilst I try her in 
something else.” 

She turned back to Jane. 

“ Just send the original to Mrs. Blunt—I haven’t 
time to bother with it—and make a note for me. I want 
it inserted after para three on the second page of that 
typewritten article that came back this morning.” 

Jane supposed she might be allowed to know what 
a “ para ” was. She turned over the leaves of the 
typescript and waited for the dictation. The last 
sentence read, “ Woman through all the ages is at the 
disposal and under the autocratic rule of man, but it is 
not of her own volition.” 

She wondered what was to come next, and waited, 
keenly on the alert. 

Lady Heritage began to speak: 

“ Write it in as neatly as possible, please; it’s only 
one sentence: ‘ It is Man who has forced “das ewig 
Weibliche ” upon us.’ ” 

Jane wrote, “ It is man-” and then stopped. 

She repeated the words aloud and looked expectant, 
65 




ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ ‘ Das ewig Weibliche 5 ”—there was a slight grim¬ 
ness in Lady Heritage’s tone. 

“ I’m afraid-” faltered Jane. 

“ Never heard the quotation?” 

“ I’m so sorry.” 

“ You don’t know any German, then?” 

“ I’m so sorry,” said Jane. 

“ My dear girl, what did they teach you at that 
school of yours? By the way, where was it?” 

“ At Ilfracombe.” 

“ English education is a disgrace,” said Lady Heri¬ 
tage, and went back to her papers. 

It was next day that she turned suddenly to Jane: 

“ By the way, you were at school at Ilfracombe— 
can you give me the name of a china shop there? I 
want some of that blue Devonshire pottery for a girls’ 
club I’m interested in.” 

Jane had a moment of panic. Renata’s shoes had 
fitted her too easily. She had felt secure, and then to 
have her security shattered by a trifle like this! 

“A china shop?” she said meditatively; then, after 
a pause, “ It’s awfully stupid of me—I’m afraid I’ve 
forgotten the name.” 

Lady Heritage stared. 

“ A shop that you must have passed hundreds of 
times?” 

“ It’s very stupid of me.” 

Lady Heritage smiled with a sudden brilliance. 

“ Well, it is rather,” she said. 

It was on the fourth day that Jane really caught her 
first glimpse of the black rocks. 

She was writing in the library, dealing with an 
apparently endless stream of begging letters, requests 
66 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


for interviews, invitations to speak at meetings or to 
join committees. 

In four days Jane had discovered that Lady Heritage 
was up to her eyes in a dozen movements relating to 
feminist activities, women’s labour, and social reform. 

Newspapers, pamphlets, and reports littered a table 
which ran the whole length of the room. Jane was 
required to open all these as they came, and separate 
those which dealt with social reform and the innumer¬ 
able scientific treatises' and reviews. These latter 
arrived in every European language. 

Jane sat writing. The day was clear and lovely, 
the air sun-warmed and yet fresh as if it had passed 
over snow. April has days like this, and they fill 
every healthy person with a longing to be out, to stop 
working, and take holiday. 

The windows of the library looked out upon the 
gravel terrace above the sea. The sun was on the blue 
water. 

Jane put down her pen and looked at the hyacinths 
in the grey stone urns. They were blue too. A yellow 
butterfly played round them. She sat up and went 
to the window. 

Lady Heritage and Mr. Ember were walking up and 
down the terrace, Lady Heritage bareheaded, all in 
white with not even a scarf, and Jeffrey Ember with 
a muffler round his neck, and the inevitable fur coat. 
They were coming towards her, and Jane stood back 
so that the curtains made a screen. She watched 
Raymond Heritage as she had watched the sea and 
the flowers, for sheer joy in her beauty. 

Raymond’s face was towards her, and she was 
speaking. 


67 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Not a word reached Jane’s ears, but as she looked 
at those beautiful lips, their movements spelt words 
to her—words and sentences. She would have drawn 
back or looked away, but the first sentence that she 
read riveted her attention too closely. 

“ Are you satisfied about her Jeffrey?” 

Ember must have spoken, but his head was turned 
away. Then Raymond spoke again. 

“ Nor am I—not entirely. She seems intelligent 
and unintelligent by turns, unbelievably stupid in one 
direction and quick in another.” They passed level 
with the window, and so on to the end of the terrace. 
Jane went round the table to the other side of the 
window and waited for them to come back. 

Ember’s face was towards her when they turned, 
too far away for her to see anything. But, as they came 
nearer, she saw that he was speaking. Not easy to 
read from, however, with those straight, thin lips that 
moved so little. There was only one word she was 
sure of—“ overheard.” 

It was too tantalising. If she had to wait until 
they reached the far end of the terrace and turned 
again, what might she not miss? 

As the thought passed through her mind Lady 
Heritage stopped, walked slowly to the grey stone wall, 
and sat down on it, motioning to Ember to do the 
same. 

Jane could see both faces now, and Raymond was 
saying, “ If she overheard anything, would she have 
the intelligence to be dangerous?—that is what I ask 
myself.” 

Ember’s lips just moved, but the movements made 
no sense. 


68 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Lady Heritage; 
“ despise not thine enemy.” 

She changed her position, leaned forward, displaying 
a statuesque profile, and appeared to be speaking fast 
and earnestly. Then Jane saw her lips again, and 
they were saying, “ Anything but Formula ‘ A.’ ” 

Jane gripped the curtain which she held until the 
gold galon which bordered it marked her hand with 
its acorn pattern. 

“ Formula ‘ A ’!” everything swam round her while 
she heard Renata’s gasping voice: 

“ He said ‘ With Formula “ A ” you have the key. 
When Formula “ B ” is also complete, you will have 
the lock for that key to fit; then the treasures of the 
world are yours.’ ” 

The mist cleared from her eyes; she looked again. 

Raymond Heritage had risen to her feet. Ember 
and she looked out to sea for a moment, then crossed 
the gravel towards the house. They were talking of 
the sunshine and the spring air. 

“ My bulbs have done well,” Lady Heritage said. 

They passed out of sight. 

Two days later Jane, coming down the corridor to 
the library, was aware of voices in conversation. She 
opened the door and saw Jeffrey Ember with his back 
to her. He had pulled a deep leather chair close to 
the fire, and was bending forward to warm his hands. 
Lady Heritage stood a yard or two away. She had a 
large bunch of violets in one hand; with the other she 
leaned against the black marble mantel. 

She and Ember were talking in German. Both 
glanced round, and Raymond asked: 

“ What is it?” 


69 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ The letters for the post,” said Jane. 

They went on talking whilst she sorted and stamped 
the letters. 

“Which of us is the better judge of character, it 
comes to that.” Speaking German, Lady Heritage’s 
deep voice sounded deeper than ever. 

“ Do we take different sides then?” 

“ I don’t know. I thought your verdict was inclined 
to be ‘ Guilty, but recommended to mercy,’ whereas 

mine-” She hesitated—stopped rather—for there 

was no hesitation in her manner. 

Ember made a gesture with the hand that held his 
cigarette. 

“ Expound.” 

“ I doubt the guilt. But if I did not doubt, I should 
have no mercy at all.” 

Jane went out with the letters, and when she was in 
the corridor again she put out her hand and leaned 
against the wall. It would be horrible enough, she 
thought, to be tried in an open court upon some capital 
count, but how far less horrible than a secret judgment 
where whispered words made unknown charges, where 
the trial went on beneath the surface of one’s pleasant 
daily life, and every word, every look, a turn of the 
head, an unguarded sigh, a word too little, or a glance 
too much might tip the scale and send the balance 
swinging down to—what? 

Next day Lady Heritage was deep in her correspond¬ 
ence, when she suddenly flashed into anger. Pushing 
back her chair, she got up and began to pace the room. 
There was a letter in her hand, and as she walked she 
tore it across and across, flung the fragments into the fire, 
and pushed a blazing log down upon them with her foot. 

70 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Jane and Ember watched her—the former with 
some surprise and a good deal of admiration, the latter 
with that odd something which her presence always 
called out. She swung round, met his eyes, and burst 
into speech. 

“ It’s Alington—to think that I ever called that man 
my friend! I wonder if there’s a single man on this 
earth who would translate professions of devotion to 
one woman, into bare decent justice to all women.” 

“ What has Lord Alington done?” asked Mr. Ember, 
with a slight drawl. 

Jane, with a thrill, identified the President of the 
Board of Trade. 

“ Nothing that I might not have expected. It is 
only women that are different, Jeffrey. Men are all 
the same.” 

“ And still I don’t know what he has done,” said 
Jeffrey Ember. 

“ Oh, it’s a long story! I’ve been pressing for women 
inspectors in various directions. It seems inconceiv¬ 
able that any one should cavil at a woman inspector 
wherever women are employed. You have no idea of 
what some of the conditions are. Stewardesses, for 
instance; I’ve a letter there from a woman who has 
been working on one of the largest liners—not a tramp 
steamer, mind you, but one of the biggest liners 
afloat. All the passengers’ trays, all the cabin meals 
had to be carried up a perpendicular iron stair like a 
fire-escape—not a permanent stair, you understand, 
but a ladder that is let up and down. Those wretched 
women had to go up and down it all day with heavy 
trays. They said they couldn’t do it, and were told 
they had to. And that’s a little thing compared to 
71 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


some of the other conditions. I want an inspector for 
them.” 

“And Alington?” 

Lady Heritage came to a halt by the long, piled-up 
table. She struck it with her open hand. “ Lord 
Alington is just a man,” she said. “ He stands for 
what men have always stood for, the sacred right of the 
vested interest. What man ever wants to alter any¬ 
thing? And why should he when the existing order 
gives him all he wants? It doesn’t matter where you 
turn, what you do, how hard you try, the vested inter¬ 
est blocks the way; you are up against the Established 
Order of what has always been. My God, how I’d like 
to smash it all, the whole thing, the whole smug sham 
which we call civilisation!” 

Jane stared at her open-eyed. She had never 
dreamed that the statue could wake into such vivid 
life as this. The colour burned in Raymond’s cheeks, 
the sombre eyes were sombre still, but they held sparks 
as if from inward fire. 

Ember touched the hand that was clenched at the 
table’s edge. A sort of tremor passed over her from 
head to foot. The colour died, the fire was gone. 
With a complete change of manner she said: 

“Alington was hardly worth all that, was he?” 
Then without a change of key, but in German: 

“ Thank you, Jeffrey, the child’s eyes were nearly 
falling out of her head. It was stupid of me; I forgot. 
These things carry me away.” 

The door opened on her last words, and Sir William 
came in. He was frowning, and appeared to be in a 
great hurry. 

“ Ridiculous business, ridiculous waste of time. 

72 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


These damned departments appear to think I’ve 
nothing to do with my time except to answer their 
infernal inquiries, and entertain any interfering jack¬ 
anapes that they choose to let loose on me.” 

“ What is it Father?” said Lady Heritage — 
“ Government inspection?” 

“ Nonsense,” said Sir William slowly. “ Henry 
March wants to come down for the night.” 

Jane bent forward over her papers. No one was 
looking at her, no one was thinking of her, but she had 
felt her cheeks grow hot, and was glad of an excuse to 
hide them. 

She did not know whether she was very much afraid 
or very glad. A feeling unfamiliar but overwhelming 
seemed to shake her to the depths. She was quite 
unconscious of what was passing behind her. 

At Henry’s name, Raymond Heritage uttered a 
sharp, “ Oh no!” She came quickly forward as she 
spoke and caught the letter from Sir William’s hand. 

“ He can’t come—I can’t have him here—put him 
off, Father; you can make some excuse!” 

“ Nonsense!” said Sir William again. “It’s a 
nuisance, of course—it’s an infernal nuisance—but 
he’ll have to come, confound him!” 

Then, as she made a half-articulate protest, he 
went on with increasing loss of temper: 

“ Good heavens! I can’t very well tell the man I 
won’t have him in what is practically his own 
house.” 

It was Ember, not her father, who saw how fright¬ 
fully pale Raymond became. In a very low voice she 
said: 

“ No, I suppose not.” 


73 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Sir William was fidgeting. He looked at Jane’s 
back. 

“ Of course, he’s coming down on business.” 

Then he broke off and stared at Jane again. 

Lady Heritage nodded. 

“ Miss Molloy,” she said. “ You can take half an 
hour off.” 


74 


CHAPTER VIII 


H ENRY arrived on the following day and was 
shown straight into Sir William’s study. 

Half an hour later Sir William rang the bell and sent 
for Lady Heritage. He hardly gave her time to shake 
hands before he burst out: 

“ I said you must be told. I take all responsi¬ 
bility for your being told. After all, if I am con¬ 
ducting these experiments, something is due to me, 
though the Government appear to think otherwise. 
But I take all responsibility; I insist on your being 
told.” 

He sat at his littered table, and all the time that he 
was speaking his hands were lifting and shuffling the 
papers on it. At his elbow stood a tray with tantalus 
and glasses and a syphon. Only one glass had been 
used. 

“ What is it?” said Raymond. 

Her eyes went from her father to Henry. 

Sir William’s hand was shaking. Henry wore a 
look of grave concern. 

“ What is it?” she repeated. 

“ It’s Formula ‘ A ’ ”—Sir William’s voice was just 
a deep growl. “ He comes here, and he tells me that 
Formula ‘ A ’ has been stolen. I’ve told him to his 
face, and I tell him again, that it’s a damned 
impossibility.” 


75 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


The shaking hand fell heavily upon the table and 
made the glasses ring. 

“ Formula ‘ A ’?” said Raymond—“ stolen? Henry, 
you can’t mean it?” 

“ I’m afraid I do,” said Henry, at his quietest. 
“ I’m afraid there’s no doubt about it. We have the 
most indisputable evidence that Formula ‘ A ’ has 
been offered to—well, to a foreign power.” 

The flush upon Sir William’s face deepened alarm¬ 
ingly. Under the bristling grey brows his eyes were 
hard with anger. He began to speak, broke off, swept 
his papers to one side, and, taking up the tantalus 
and the used glass, poured out a third of a glass of 
whisky. He let a small quantity of soda into it with 
a vicious jerk, and then sat with the glass between his 
hands, alternately sipping from it and interjecting 
sounds of angry protest. 

“ The information is, I’m afraid, correct.” 

Henry’s tone, though studiously moderate, was 
extremely firm. “ There is undoubtedly a leak, and, 
in view of Formula ‘ B,’ it is vital that the leak should 
be found and stopped.” 

He addressed himself to Lady Heritage: 

“ Sir William tells me that all employes correspond 
with the list in my possession, that none of them leave 
the enclosure, and that all letters are censored. By 
the way, who censors them?” 

“ Ember,” growled Sir William. 

Lady Heritage elaborated the remark. 

“ Mr. Ember—Father’s secretary.” 

She and Henry were both standing, with the corner 
of the writing-table between them. She saw inquiry 
in Henry’s face. He said: 

76 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Who does leave the premises ?” 

“ Father, once in a blue moon, I when I have any 
shopping to do, and, of course, Mr. Ember.” 

“And when you go you drive, of course? What I 
mean is—a chauffeur goes too?” 

Sir William made a sound between a snort and a 
laugh; Lady Heritage smiled. Both had the air of 
being pleased to catch Henry out. 

“ The chauffeur is Lewis, who was your uncle’s 
coachman here for twenty-five years. Are you going 
to suggest that he has been selling Formula ‘A 5 to a 
foreign power? I’m afraid you must think again.” 

“ Who is Mr. Ember?” 

Sir William exploded. 

“ Ember’s my secretary. He’s been my right hand 
for ten years, and if you’re going to make insinuations 
about him, you can leave my house and make them 
elsewhere. Why, damn it all, March!—why not accuse 
Raymond, or me?” 

“ I don’t accuse any one, sir.” 

There was a pause, whilst the two men looked at one 
another. It was Sir William who looked away at last. 
He drained his glass and got up, pushing his chair so 
hard that it overturned. 

“You want to see all the men to check ’em by that 
infernal list of yours, do you? The sooner the better 
then; let’s get it over.” 

Later, as the men answered to their names in the long, 
bare room which had once been the Blue Parlour, Henry 
was struck with the strangeness of the scene. Here 
his aunt had loved to sit doing an interminable em¬ 
broidery of fruits and flowers upon canvas. Here he 
and Anthony had lain prone before the fire, each 
77 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


with his head in a book and his heels waving aloft. 
Memories of Fenimore Cooper and Henty filled the 
place when for a moment he closed his eyes. Then, as 
they opened, there was the room all bare, the windows 
barred and uncurtained, the long stretcher tables with 
their paraphernalia of glass retorts, queer, twisted 
apparatus, powerful electric appliances, and this row of 
men answering to their names whilst he checked each 
from his list. 

“ James Mallaby.” He called the name and glanced 
from the man who answered it to the paper in his hand. 
A small photograph was followed by a description: “ 5 
feet 7 inches, grey eyes, mole on chin, fair complexion, 
sandy hair.” All correct. He passed to the next. 

“ Jacob Moss—5 feet 5 inches, dark complexion, 
black hair and eyes, no marks. . . .” 

“ George Patterson—5 feet 10 inches, sallow com¬ 
plexion, brown hair and beard, grey on temples, grey 
eyes, scar. ...” 

The man who answered to the name of George 
Patterson stepped forward. He had the air of being 
taller than his scheduled height. His beard and hair 
were unkempt, and the scar set down against him 
was a red seam that ran from the left temple to the 
chin, where it lost itself in grizzled hair. He stooped, 
and walked with a dragging step. 

Henry, who for the moment was speaking to Sir 
William, looked at him casually enough. He opened 
his list, and in turning the page, the papers slipped 
from his hand and fell. George Patterson picked them 
up. Henry went on to the next name. 

Jane had keyed herself up to meeting him at tea- 
time, but neither Henry nor Sir William appeared. 

78 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Captain March is an extremely conscientious 
person,” said Lady Heritage. It was not a trait which 
appeared to commend itself to her. “ I should think 
he must have interviewed the very black-beetles by 
now. Have you been passed, Jeffrey?” 

“ I don’t know,” said Mr. Ember, “ but it hasn’t 
taken away my appetite for tea.” 

In fact it had not. It was Raymond who ate 
nothing. 

Jane and Henry did not meet until dinner-time. As 
she dressed, Jane kept looking at herself in the glass. 
She was pale, and she must not look pale. She took a 
towel and rubbed her cheeks—that was better. Then 
a little later, when she looked again, her eyes were far 
too bright, her face unnaturally flushed. 

“ As if any one was going to look at you at all— 
idiot!” she said. 

After this she kept her back to the mirror. 

In all the books that she had ever read the secretary 
or companion invariably wore a dinner dress of black 
silk made, preferably, out of one which had belonged to 
a grandmother or some even more remote relative. 
In this garb she outshone all the other women and 
annexed the affections of at least two of the most 
eligible men. 

Renata did not possess a black silk gown. 

“ Thank goodness, for I should look perfectly awful 
in it,” was Jane’s thought. 

With almost equal distaste she viewed the white 
muslin sacred to prize-givings and school concerts. 
Attired in this garment Renata had played the 
“ Sonata Pathetique ” amidst the applause of boarders 
and parents. With this pale blue sash about her 
79 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


waist she had recited “ How they brought the Good 
News from Ghent to Aix.” Jane tied it in a vicious 
knot. Her only comfort as she went downstairs was 
that it was impossible to look more like a schoolgirl 
and less like a conspirator. 

Sir William and Henry were in the hall—Mr. Ember 
too, close to the fire as usual. 

Sir William jerked his head in Jane’s direction and 
grunted, “ Miss Molloy, my daughter’s secretary.” 
Henry bowed. Jane inclined her head. 

Next moment they all turned to watch Raymond 
Heritage come down the stair. 

She wore black velvet. Her neck and arms were 
bare. A long rope of pearls fell to her knee. 

Jane wondered whether the world held another 
woman so beautiful, then looked quickly at Henry, 
and the same thought was visible upon Henry’s 
face. 

Dinner was not a cheerful meal. Lady Heritage 
hardly opened her lips. Sir William sat hunched for¬ 
ward over the table; when addressed, the remark 
had to be repeated before he answered; he drank a 
good deal. 

Jane considered that a modest silence became her, 
and the conversation was sustained with some effect 
of strain by Captain March and Mr. Ember. They 
talked fitfully of politics, musical comedy, the weather, 
and the American Exchange. 

It was a relief, to Jane at least, when she and Lady 
Heritage found their way to the drawing-room. 

Henry wondered at their using this large, formal 
room for so small a party. His aunt, he remembered, 
had kept it shut up for the most part. The sense of 
80 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

space was, however, grateful to Jane. The small 
circle of candlelight in the dining-room had seemed 
to shut them in, forcing an intimacy for which no one 
of them was prepared. 

The Yellow Drawing-Room was a very stately apart¬ 
ment. The walls were hung with a Chinese damask 
which a hundred years had not robbed of its imperial 
colour. Beneath their pagoda-patterned blue linen 
covers Jane knew that the chairs and sofas wore a 
stiff yellow satin like a secret pride. Electric candles 
in elaborate sconces threw a cold, steady light upon 
the scene. 

Lady Heritage sat by the fire, the Revue des Deux 
Mondes in her hand. Her eyes were on the page and 
never left it, but she was not reading. In fifteen 
minutes her glance had not shifted, and the page re¬ 
mained unturned. 

Then the door opened, and the two younger men 
came in. Lady Heritage looked up for a moment, 
and then went back to her Revue. She made no 
attempt to entertain Captain March, who, for his part, 
showed some desire to be entertained. 

“ You are using the big rooms, I see. Aunt Mary 
always said they were too cold. You remember she 
always sat in the Blue Parlour, or the little oak room 
at the head of the stair.” 

Raymond’s lip lifted slightly. 

“ I’m afraid the Blue Parlour would not be very 
comfortable now,” she said without looking up. 

Henry possessed a persevering nature. He pro¬ 
duced, in rapid succession, a remark about the weather, 
an inquiry as to the productiveness of the kitchen 
garden, and a comment upon the pleasant warmth of 
81 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the log fire. The first and last of these efforts elicited 
no reply at all. To the question about the garden 
produce Lady Heritage answered that she had no 
idea. 

Mr. Ember’s habitual expression of cynicism became 
a trifle more marked. 

Jane had the feeling that the pressure in the atmo¬ 
sphere was steadily on the increase. 

“ Won’t you sing something, Raymond,” said Henry. 
His pleasant ease of manner appeared quite impervious 
to snubs. 

Lady Heritage closed the Revue des Deux Mondes 
and, for the first time, looked full at Captain March. 
If he was startled by the furious resentment of that 
gaze he did not show it. 

“ And what do you expect me to sing, Henry?” 
she said—“ the latest out of the Jazz Girls?” 

“I don’t mind; whatever you like, but do sing, 
won’t you?” 

Raymond got up with an abrupt movement. Walk¬ 
ing to one of the long windows which opened upon the 
terrace, she drew the heavy yellow brocade curtain 
back with a jerk. Beyond the glass the terrace lay in 
deepest shadow, but moonlight touched the sea. She 
bent, drew the bolt, and opened half the door. 

“ The room is stifling,” she said. “ Jeffrey, it’s 
your fault they pile the fire up so. I wish you’d some¬ 
times look at a calendar and realise that this is April, 
not January.” 

Then, turning, she crossed to the piano. 

“ If I sing, it will be to please myself, and I shall 
probably not please any one else.” 

Ember came forward and opened the piano. He 
82 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


bent as he did so, and said a few words very low. She 
answered him. 

Henry, left by the fireside with Jane, leaned forward 
conversationally, the last Punch in his hand. 

“ This is a good cartoon,” he said. “ Have you seen 
it, Miss Molloy?” 

And as she bent to look at the page, he added 
in that low, effaced tone which does not carry a 
yard: 

“ Which room have they given you?” 

“ I like the line,” said Jane in her clear voice, “ and 
that very black shadow.” Then, in an almost sound¬ 
less breath—“ The end room, south wing.” 

“ Don’t go to bed,” said Henry. “ Wonderful 
how they keep it up, week after week. I mean to 
say, it must put you off your stroke like anything, 
knowing you’ve got to come right up to time like 
that.” 

“ Your department doesn’t work by the calendar, 
then? You don’t have to bother about results?” 

Ember strolled back to his favourite place by the 
fire as he spoke, and Lady Heritage broke into a re¬ 
sounding chord. She played what Henry afterwards 
described as “ an infernal pandemonium of a thing.” 
It appeared to be in several keys at once, and marched 
from one riot of discord to another until it ended with 
a strident crash which set up a humming jangle of 
vibrations. 

“ Like that, Henry?” said Lady Heritage. 

“ No,” said Henry, monosyllabic in his turn. 

“ No one ever likes to hear the truth,” said Raymond. 
“ You all want something pleasant, something smooth, 
something like this ”—her fingers slipped into the 
83 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Blue Danube ” waltz. She played it exquisitely, 
with a melting delicacy of touch and a beautiful sense 
of rhythm. After a dozen bars or so she stopped 
suddenly, leaned her elbow on the keyboard, and 
through the little clang of the impact said: 

“ Well?” 

“ That’s topping,” said Henry. He looked across at 
her admiringly—the long sweep of the ebony piano, 
the white keyboard with the black notes standing 
clear, Raymond in her velvet and pearls, and behind 
her the imperial yellow of China. 

“ Soothing syrup,” she said. “ You’re not up to 
date, Henry, I’m afraid. The moderns show us things 
as they are, and we don’t like it, but the soothing 
syrups lose their power to soothe once you find out 
that they are just . . . dope.” 

“ I wish you’d sing,” said Henry. 

She looked across him at Ember, and an expression 
difficult to define hardened her face. 

“ This isn’t modern, but will you like it?” she 
said, and preluded. Then she began to sing in a 
deep mezzo: 

“ The Worldly Hope Men set their Hearts upon 
Turns Ashes—or it prospers; and anon, 

Like Snow upon the Desert’s dusty Face 
Lighting its little Hour or two—is gone. 

Here in this battered Caravanserai, 

Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, 

How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp 
Abode his destined Hour, and went his Way.” 

The notes came heavy and tragic. In her voice 
there seemed to be gathered all the tragedy, all the 
84 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


emotion of human life. The sound fell almost to a 
whisper: 

“ The Worldly Hope Men set their Hearts upon 
Turns Ashes—or it prospers; and anon, 

Like Snow upon the Desert’s dusty Face 
Lighting its little Hour or two—is gone.” 

Suddenly the voice rose ringing like a trumpet, a 
great chord crashed out: 

“Waste not your Hour!” 

The deep octaves followed. Then she passed into 
modulating phrases and began to sing again. 

“ Her voice is nearly as beautiful as she is,” thought 
Jane, “ but somehow—she shakes one.” 

“ Ah Love, could you and I with Fate conspire 
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, 

Would we not shatter it to bits, and then 
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire?” 

With the last word she rose, turned from the piano 
and the room, and went out to the terrace. 

Henry got up, strolled casually across the room, and 
followed her. She was standing by the low parapet 
looking over the sea. The night was still, the scent of 
hyacinths was heavy on the air, but every now and then 
a breath—something not to be called a wind—came up 
from across the water and brought with it cold, and a 
tang of salt. 

The moon was still behind the house, but near to clear¬ 
ing it, and though they stood in the dusk, Henry could 
see Lady Heritage’s features as though through a veil. 

Her icy mood was broken; the tears were rolling down 
her cheeks. She turned on him with a flame of anger. 

“ Why did you come? Why did you come? Do 
85 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


you know what Father said to me yesterday? I said 
I wouldn’t have you here, and he said—he said, ‘ Good 
heaven! how can I keep the man away from what is 
practically his own house?’ Is it yours now?—have 
you come to see your property?” 

Henry looked at her gravely. 

“ No, it is not mine yet,” he said, “ and I came for a 
very different reason, as I think you know.” 

“ And you expected me to welcome you ... as if 

it wasn’t enough to be here, to live here—without-” 

She broke off, gripping the rough stone of the parapet 
with both hands. “You ask me why I don’t use the 
Oak Room—do you forget how you and I. and Tony 
used to roast chestnuts there, and tell ghost stories— 
till we were afraid to go to bed? If there were no worse 
ghosts than those. . . . Do you know, every time you 
come into the room I expect to see Anthony behind 
you, and when you speak I catch myself listening for 
his voice?. . . Do you still wonder why I don’t use 
the Oak Room? What are men made of?” 

“ I don’t know,” said Henry. “ Did I hurt you, 
Raymond? I’m sorry if I did, but it wasn’t meant.” 

She sank down upon the parapet. All the vehemence 
went out of her. 

u You see,” she said in a whispering voice—“ you 
see, I can’t forget. God knows how hard I’ve tried. 
Every one else has forgotten, but I can’t forget. If I 
could, I should sleep—but I can’t. Henry, have you 
ever tried very hard to forget anything?” 

“ Yes,” said Henry. 

“ Will you tell me what it was?” 

“ I’m afraid I can’t.” 

“ Oh well, it doesn’t matter, and if you really under- 
86 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

stand, you know that the more one tries the more 
vivid it all becomes. ,, 

“ It’s Tony?” asked Henry. 

“ Yes, it’s Tony,” said Raymond, in an odd voice— 
“ but it’s not because he’s dead—I don’t want you to 
think that. I could have borne that; I could have 
borne anything if I could have seen him once again, or 
if he had known that I cared, but he went away in 
anger and he never knew.” 

“ I didn’t know,” said Henry—“ I’m sorry.” 

Lady Heritage looked away across the sea. The 
moonlight showed where the jagged line of rocks cut 
sharp through the sleeping water. 

“ There’s a verse in the Bible—do you ever read the 
Bible, Henry? I don’t, but I remember this verse; one 
was taught it as a child. 1 Let not the sun go down 
upon your wrath.’ I let the moon rise and go down 
on mine.” She spoke very, very quietly. “Anthony 
stood there, just by that urn. He said, ‘ You’ll have 
all the rest of your life to be sorry in. . . That was 
the last thing he said to me. He never forgave, and he 
never wrote. I didn’t think any man would let me go 
so easily, so I married John Heritage to show that I 
didn’t care. And, whilst we were on our honeymoon, 
I saw Anthony’s name in the list of missing. Now, 
do you wonder that I hate you for coming here, and 
for being alive, and taking Tony’s place? And do you 
wonder that there are times when I hate everything so 
much that I’d like well enough to see this whole sorry 
scheme shattered to bits—if it could be done?” 

“ I’m not so keen on this shattering business, 
Raymond,” said Henry. “ Don’t you think there’s 
been about enough of it? There are a lot of rotten 
87 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


things, and a lot of good things, and they’re all mixed 
up. If you start shattering, the odds are you bring 
down everything together.” 

“ Well?” said Raymond, just one word, cold and still. 

There was a little pause. Then she laughed. 

“ Is Henry also among the preachers?” she said 
mockingly. “ You should take Orders; a surplice 
would be becoming.” 

Henry was annoyed to feel that he was flushing. 

“ Shall I go on preaching?” he said, and as he 
spoke, Mr. Ember came through the open glass door 
with a cloak over his arm. 

“I ama relief expedition,” he announced. “ You 
must be frozen. Never trust a moonlight night.” 

He put the wrap about Raymond’s shoulders, but 
she did not fasten it. 

“ I’m coming in,” she said. 

She and Ember passed into the lighted room. 
Henry stood still for a minute, listened acutely; then 
he followed them. 

There was a hedge of stiffly growing veronica bushes 
at the foot of the terrace wall. After Henry had gone 
in, the man called George Patterson came out from 
behind the bushes at the far end of the terrace. He 
walked slowly with a dragging step, keeping in the 
shadow of the house, and he made his way to the far 
end of the north wing. 

Inside the Yellow Drawing-Room Henry was bid¬ 
ding his hostess good-night, and announcing his inten¬ 
tion of taking a moonlight stroll. 

Presently he emerged upon the terrace, descended 
the steps on the right, and made his way in the direc¬ 
tion taken by George Patterson. 

88 


CHAPTER IX 


W HEN Jane reached her own room, she stood 
a long time in front of the glass frowning 
at herself. It might be safe to look so exactly like 
a schoolgirl, but it was very, very humiliating. Henry 
had never glanced at her once. That, of course, was 
all in the line of safety too. Also, why should Henry 
look at her? Why should she wish him to do so? 
She was not in love with him; she had, in fact, refused 
him—could it be that there was a little balm in this 
thought? What did it matter to her how long he 
looked at Raymond Heritage? 

She took off the white muslin dress and put it 
away. 

The worst part of being Renata was, not the risk, 
but having to wear Renata’s clothes. All the things 
were good, horribly good, and they were all quite 
extraordinarily dull. “ If your shoes want mending, 
and your things are threadbare, every one knows it’s 
because you’re poor, and not because you like being 
down at heel and out at elbows. But Renata’s things 
must have cost quite a lot, and, of course, every one 
thinks they are my choice.” 

By some deflected line of reasoning “ every one ” 
meant Henry. 

Jane folded up the pale blue sash and shut it sharply 
into a drawer. Then she put on Renata’s dressing- 
gown. It was made of crimson flannel, very thick and 
89 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


soft, with scalloped edges to the collar and cuffs— 
“ exactly like one’s grandmother’s petticoat.” 

She rumpled the bedclothes and disarranged the 
pillows. Then she put out the light, sat down on the 
window-seat, and waited. 

The blind was up; she had slipped behind the chintz 
curtains. The terrace lay beneath her, only half in 
shadow now. There was no sound in the house, no 
sound from the sea. The line of shadow moved back¬ 
wards inch by inch. 

When Jane sat down to wait, she told herself that 
she would not listen and strain; she would just sit 
there quite peacefully, and if anything was going to 
happen—well, let it happen. But as she sat there, she 
became afraid against her will, aware once more of 
that sense of pressure which had come upon her in 
the drawing-room. It was as if something was 
steadily approaching not her alone, but all of them—as 
if their thoughts and actions were being, at one and 
the same time, dictated by an outside force and 
scrutinised—watched—spied upon. 

With all her might she resisted this sensation and 
the fear that it suggested. But, as the night passed to 
midnight and beyond, a strange feeling of being one 
watcher in a slumbering household detached itself 
from the general confusion, and she began to long with 
great intensity for something—anything—to happen. 

Once something moved in the foot-wide strip of 
shadow against the house. Jane caught her breath 
and then saw that it was only a cat, a half-grown 
kitten rather, beloved of the cook. It came out 
into the moonlight and walked solemnly the entire 
length of the terrace with delicately taken steps and 
90 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


a high waving tail. It was as soundless and black as 
the shadow out of which it had come, and presently 
it was gone again, and second by second, minute by 
minute, slow, interminable, the night dropped away. 
In the hall a clock struck the quarters. The silence, 
shattered for a moment, closed again. 

When the rapping came, it brought the oddest sense 
of interruption. Jane sprang to her feet, stood for a 
moment catching at her self-control, and then went 
noiselessly to the door. She listened before opening 
it, and could hear nothing; and, as she listened, the 
knocking came again, but from behind her. 

Bewildered, she edged the door open and looked 
out. A shaded light burned far away to the left. 
The long, dim corridor was empty. She shut the door. 

Some one was knocking—somewhere—but where? 

She turned and stood facing the windows. Up in 
the far corner a large cupboard filled the angle and 
blunted it. Jane had hung her serge dress there hours 
and hours ago. The knocking seemed to come from 
the cupboard, just where the room was at its darkest 
because next the lighted window. 

Jane crossed the floor very slowly, put both hands 
on the cupboard doors, and flung them wide. For a 
moment everything was quite black, then, with a most 
unpleasant suddenness, a narrow white ray cut the 
dark, and Henry’s voice said, “ It’s only me.” 

Jane’s hand went to her lips, pressing them firmly. 
She would not have admitted that this action alone 
saved her from screaming. After a moment she gave 
a little gasp, and located Henry, or rather Henry’s 
head, which was almost under her feet. 

In the cupboard floor there was a square black hole, 
91 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


and, just above floor-level, Henry’s face looked up at 
her, tilted at an odd angle, whilst his one visible hand 
manipulated a small electric torch. 

“ Wait,” said Jane, in a whisper. 

She went quickly to the door, locked it, removed the 
key, and put it in one of the dressing-table drawers. 
She did not know quite what made her do this, only 
suddenly when her eyes saw Henry, her mind had a 
vivid impression of that long corridor with its one 
faintly glimmering light. 

Then she sat down on the cupboard floor, close to 
Henry’s head, and breathed out: 

“ Henry!—how on earth?” 

Henry, who appeared to be standing upon a ladder 
or something equally vertical, came up a few steps, sat 
down on the edge of the hole, and switched off his torch. 

“ I had to see you,” he said. “ This was my room in 
the old days, and Tony and I found this passage. It 
leads down to another cupboard in the garden room 
where they keep the tennis and croquet gear. How 
are you?—all right?” 

“ Yes, quite all right.” 

“ That’s good. Now which of us is going to talk 
first?” 

“ I think I had better,” said Jane. “ You see, I 
saw Renata, and she told me things, and I think, if you 
don’t mind, Henry, that I had better tell you every¬ 
thing that she told me.” 

“ Yes, please.” He hesitated. “ One minute, Jane, 
I just wanted to say, you don’t mind talking to me like 
this, do you? I wouldn’t have asked you to if there 
had been any other way—what I mean to say is . . .” 

Jane gave a very small laugh, which was instantly 
92 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


repressed. She reflected that it was pleasanter to 
suppress a laugh than a scream. 

“ What you mean to say is, there aren’t any 
chaperons in this scene. You needn’t apologise, 
Henry. Sleuths never have chaperons—it’s simply not 
done; and, anyhow, I’m sure you’d make a beautiful 
one. Shall I go on?” 

It may be doubted whether Henry really cared about 
being described as a chaperon. His tone was rather 
dry as he said: 

“ Go on, please.” 

As for Jane, who had prodded him on purpose just 
to see if anything would happen, she certainly felt a 
slight disappointment accompanied by a sense of 
increased respect. 

“ You saw Renata. What did she tell you?” 

“ She told me what she overheard,” said Jane, 
speaking slowly. “ Henry, if I tell you what it was, 
will you promise me not to let any one guess that you 
know? If they were certain that I knew, I shouldn’t 
be alive to-morrow; and if they thought you knew the 
secret, you’d never get back to London alive.” 

“ Who is ‘ they,’ Jane?” said Henry. 

“ I want to tell you about Renata first. She really 
did walk in her sleep, you know. She must have waked 
when she opened the door. She said the first thing she 
knew was the cold feel of the hall linoleum under her 
feet. The door was open, and she was standing just on 
the threshold. There was a screen in front of her, and 
beyond the screen a man talking. She heard every 
word he said, and I am sure that what she repeated to 
me was just exactly what she heard. The first words 
that she caught were ‘ Formula “ A.” ’ ” 

93 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Henry gave a violent start. 

“ Good Lord!” he said under his breath. “ You’re 
sure?” 

“ Quite. Then he went on, and this is what he said: 
1 You all have Formula “ A.” You will go to your 
posts and from your directions you will prepare what 
is needful according to that formula, carrying out to 
the last detail the cipher instructions which each of 
you has received. As soon as the experiments relating 
to Formula “ B ” are completed, you will receive a 
summons in code. You will then assemble at the 
rendezvous given, and Formula “ B,” with all instruc¬ 
tions for its employment, will be entrusted to you. 
With Formula “A” you have the key. When 
Formula “ B ” is also complete you will have the lock 
for that key to fit; then the treasures of the world are 
yours. The annihilation of civilisation and of the 
human race is within our grasp. When the key has 
turned in the lock we only shall be left, and . . .’ 
Just then, Renata said, some one else cried out, 4 The 
door! The door!’ They pushed the screen away 
and pulled her in. She nearly fainted. When she 
revived a little, her father and Mr. Ember were trying 
to find out what she had heard. Fortunately for her¬ 
self, she told me, at first it was all confusion. The only 
thing that stood out clearly was that shout at the end, 
but afterwards, when she was alone, it all came back. 
She said it was like a photographic plate developing, 
hazy at first, and then everything getting clearer and 
sharper until each detail came out. She repeated the 
whole thing as if it were a lesson.” 

“ Wait,” said Henry. “ My head’s going round. I 
want to sort things out.” 


94 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Jane waited. She had been prepared for Henry to 
be impressed or incredulous. What took her by sur¬ 
prise was the puzzled note in his voice. “ Lord, what 
a mix-up! ” she heard him say. 

Then he addressed her again. 

“ Did you ever play ‘ Russian Scandal/ Jane?” 
he said. 

“ Yes, of course. But if you had heard Renata— 
the sort of queer mechanical way she spoke, exactly 
like a gramophone record—why, the words weren’t 
words she’d have used, and all that about Formula 
‘ A ’—do you think that’s the sort of thing that a 
schoolgirl makes up?” 

“ No,” said Henry unexpectedly. “ I think it is 
quite possible that she overheard something about 
Formula ‘ A,’ and I’d give a good deal to know just 
what she did hear.” 

“I’ve told you what she heard,” said Jane. 
“Jimmy always said I had a photographic memory, 
and I said the whole thing over to myself until I 
had it by heart. You see, I didn’t dare to write it 
down.” 

“ Can you say it again?” said Henry. “ I’d like to 
get it down in black and white, and have a look at it. 
At present it makes me feel giddy.” 

“ You mustn’t write it down,” said Jane breathlessly. 
“ Oh, you mustn’t, Henry! It’s not safe.” 

Henry turned on his torch, propped it against the 
wall, and produced a notebook and a pencil. The 
cold, narrow beam of light showed his knee, the white 
paper, a pencil with a silver ring, and Henry’s large, 
brown hand. 

“ He has a horribly determined hand,” thought Jane. 

95 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Now,” said Henry, “ will you start at the beginning 
and say it all over again, please?” 

Jane did so meekly, but her inward feelings were not 
meek. Once more she repeated, word for word, and 
sentence for sentence, the somewhat flamboyant speech 
of Number Four. 

Henry’s hand travelled backwards and forwards in 
the little lane of light, and, word for word, and sen¬ 
tence by sentence, he wrote it down. When he had 
finished, he read over what he had written. If he had 
not a photographic memory, he was, at any rate, 
aware that Jane in her repetition had not varied so 
much as a syllable from her first statement. 

He went on looking at what he had written. At 
last he said: 

“ Jane, I think I must tell you something in con¬ 
fidence. Sir William, as you know, is conducting 
important experiments for the Government. How 
important you may perhaps have gathered from the 
extraordinary precautions which are taken to prevent 
any leakage of information. These experiments have 
resulted in two valuable discoveries represented, for 
purposes of official correspondence, by the terms 
Formula ‘ A ’ and Formula ‘ B.’ Within the last 
week we have had indisputable proof that Formula 
‘ A ’ has been offered to a foreign power. That is the 
reason for my presence here. Now these are facts. 
Let them sink into your mind, then read over what I 
have just taken down, and tell me how you square 
those facts with Renata’s statement.” 

Jane picked up the notebook, stared at the written 
words, set Henry’s facts in the forefront of her mind, 
and remarked candidly: 


96 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ It does make your head go round rather, doesn’t 
it?” 

Henry assented. They both sat silent. Then Jane 
put down the notebook. 

“ Never mind about our heads going round,” she said. 
“ Let me go on and tell you the rest of it. It isn’t only 
what Renata heard; it’s the things that keep happening 
—little things in a way, but oh, Henry, sometimes I 
think they are more frightening just because they are 
little things. I mean, supposing you know you’re 
going to be executed, you brace yourself up, and it’s 
all in the day’s work, but if you are out at a dinner¬ 
party and you suddenly find poison in the soup, or a 
bomb in the middle of the table decorations, it’s . . . 
well, it’s unexpected—and, and perfectly beastly” 

Jane’s voice broke just for an instant. 

Henry’s hand ,came quickly through the torchlight, 
and rested on both hers. It was a satisfactorily large 
and heavy hand. 

She told him about her interview with Ember at the 
flat, and one by one she marshalled all the small hap¬ 
penings which had startled and alarmed her. 

Henry waited until she had quite finished. Then he 
said: 

“ This lip-reading—you know, my dear girl, it’s a 
chancy sort of thing; it seems to me that there are 
unlimited possibilities of mistake.” 

“ Some people are much easier to read from than 
others. Lady Heritage is very easy. I’m sure I was not 
mistaken; she was saying, ‘ If she overheard anything, 
would she have the intelligence to be dangerous? 
That is what I ask myself,’ and she said, ‘ Despise not 
thine enemy,’ and ‘ Anything but Formula “ A.” ’ 
97 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Now Mr. Ember is very difficult. I can’t really make 
him out at all. His lips don’t move. It’s no use 
not believing me, Henry. Look here, I’ll show 
you.” 

She caught up the little torch, and turned the light 
upon his face. 

“ Say something,” she commanded. 

Henry’s lips formed the words, “ Jane, I love you 
very much indeed ”—and Jane switched off the light. 

“ Henry, you’re a perfect beast! Play fair,” she 
said, in a low, furious whisper. 

“ Sorry. Wasn’t it all right? Try again.” 

Jane allowed the ray to light up Henry’s mouth and 
chin. The hand that held the torch was not quite 
steady. This may have been the result of anger—or 
of some other emotion. As a result the light wavered 
a good deal. 

Henry’s lips moved, and Jane read aloud, “ A sleuth 
should never lose its temper.” 

Henry’s hand caught the little shaking one that held 
the torch, and gave it a great squeeze. 

“ How frightfully clever you are, and—oh, Jane, 
what a goose!” 

“ I’m not,” said Jane. 

“ But don’t you see that, with Renata’s story in 
your mind, you would be looking out for things? 
You couldn’t help it.” 

“ What do you think, then, of Lady Heritage saying 
that Mr. Ember’s verdict was inclined to be c Guilty, 
but recommended to mercy,’ whereas she said that she 
herself doubted the guilt, but that if she did not, she 
would have no mercy at all? Do you know, that 
frightened me almost more than anything. I don’t 
98 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

know why. That wasn’t lip-reading; I heard the 
words with my own ears.” 

“ But—don’t you see-” He paused. “ Let’s get 

back to facts: Formula ‘A’ has been stolen and 
offered for sale. Renata, undoubtedly, overheard 
something relating to Formula ‘ A.’ Now, supposing 
Mr. Molloy or one of his friends to be the person who 
is doing the deal, don’t you see that the possibility 
of Renata having overheard something compromising 
would be sufficient to account for a good deal of 
alarm? 

“ If Molloy and his friends had stolen Formula 
‘ A ’ and were trying to dispose of it, it would naturally 
be of the highest importance to them to find out how 
much Renata knew, and to take steps which would 
ensure her silence. They would almost certainly try 
and frighten her—that’s how it seems to me.” 

“ Then where does Mr. Ember come in?” said Jane. 
“ He was there.” 

“ Are you sure?” 

“ Renata described him,” said Jane. “ She said he 
was the worst of them all.” 

“ She knew him by name?” 

“ No. But . . . but ”—a little chill breath of 
doubt played on Jane’s certainty—“ she called him the 
man in the fur coat. The others spoke of him as 
Number Two.” 

“ But you don’t know that it was Ember?” 

For a moment Jane felt that she was sure of nothing; 
then, with a swift revulsion, her old fears, suspicions, 
certainties, received vigorous reinforcement. 

“ Henry,” she said, “ listen. You’re on the wrong 
scent—I know you are. I can’t tell you how I know it, 
99 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


but I’m quite, quite sure. If you were an anarchist, 
and wanted to produce some horrible thing that would 
smash civilisation into atoms, how would you set 
about it?—where would you go? Don’t you see that 
the very safest place would be somewhere like this, 
somewhere where you could carry on your experi¬ 
ments under the cover of real experiments? It’s like 
the caterpillars that pretend to be sticks—what do 
you call it?—protective mimicry.” 

“ Jane!” said Henry. 

“ I’m sure that’s what they have done. I’m sure 
that there is something dreadful going on in this 
house. And if you can’t square what Renata heard 
with what you know of Formula ‘ A,’ why, then I 
believe that there must be more than one Formula 
‘ A.’ Don’t you see how cunning it would be for them 
to take the name of a real Government invention to 
cover up whatever horrible thing it is that they are 
working at?” 

There was a dead silence. 

“ Another Formula ‘ A ’?” said Henry slowly. Then, 
with an abrupt change of manner: 

“ Leave it—all of it—and tell me some things I want 
to know. Sir William, for instance—he was put out 
at my coming down, I know—but what is he like as a 
rule? He does not always drink as much as he did 
to-night, does he?” 

“ I think he does. Henry, I think he takes too 
much—I do, really; and he’s frightfully irritable. But 
that’s not what strikes me most. The thing I notice 
is that he doesn’t seem to do any work. Mr. Ember 
is supposed to be his secretary, but he really does all 
his work with Lady Heritage. She goes on all the 
100 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

time. She spends hours in the laboratories. I believe 
she works there till ever so late, but Sir William just 
sticks in his study and broods. I thought how strange 
it was from the very first day.” 

“And Lady Heritage? Put all this mysterious 
business on one side and tell me what you make of 
her?” 

Jane hesitated. 

“ She’s—she’s disturbing. I think she has too 
much of everything, and it seems to upset the balance 
of everything she touches. She’s too beautiful for 
one thing, and she has too much intellect, and too 
much, far too much, emotion. I think she is dreadfully 
unhappy too, with the sort of unhappiness that makes 
you want to hurt somebody else. You know what 
she sang this evening. I think she really feels like 
that, and would like to smash—everything. That’s 
why . . .” Jane broke off suddenly; her voice dropped 
to the least possible thread, “ Oh, what’s that—what’s 
that?” 

As she spoke, her hand met Henry’s on the switch of 
the torch. The light went out. Jane clung to one 
of the hard, strong fingers as she listened with all her 
ears. She heard a footstep, light and unmistakable, 
and it stopped upon the threshold. 

There were about twenty seconds of really terrifying 
silence, and then the handle of the door turned slowly. 
Jane heard the creak of the hinge, the minute rattle 
of the latch. Then the handle was released, but slowly 
and with the least possible noise. There was another 
silence. 

Jane pinched Henry as hard as she could, and though 
this, of course, relieved the strain she felt dreadfully 
101 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


afraid that she would scream unless something broke 
through this dreadful quiet. 

Something did break through it next moment, for 
there came a low knocking on the door, and with the 
first sound of that knocking Jane recovered herself. 
With an extraordinary quickness and lightness she was 
on her feet and out of the cupboard, the cupboard was 
shut, and Jane, her shoes noiselessly discarded, was 
sitting on the side of a rumpled bed, a fold of the sheet 
across her mouth, inquiring in sleepy, muffled accents: 

“ What is it? Who’s there?” 

The knocking had gone on steadily. Now it stopped, 
and a voice said, “ It is I, Lady Heritage. Open the 
door.” 

Jane threw back the bedclothes so as to cover the 
chair at the bed-foot—a chair upon which there should 
have been a neatly folded pile of clothes—pulled off 
her stockings, and took the key out of the dressing- 
table drawer. 

“ Oh, what is it?” she said, and fumbled at the lock. 

Next moment the door was open, and she saw Lady 
Heritage in her white linen overall and head-dress, 
the latter pushed back and showing her hair. 

Lady Heritage saw a startled girl in a red flannel 
dressing-gown. Between the moonlight and the light 
from the passage there was a sort of dusk. Lady 
Heritage put her hand on the switch, but did not pull 
it down. Instead, she said quickly: 

“ I saw a light under the door. Are you ill?” 

Jane rubbed her eyes. 

“ A light?” she said. 

Raymond crossed the room quickly and felt each of 
the electric bulbs. 


102 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ A light?” said Jane again. 

Lady Heritage went back to the door and turned 
all the lights on. 

“ Do you always lock yourself in?” she said. “ And 
why did you take the key out of the door?” 

“ Was it wrong? They say that if you lock your 
door and put the key away, even if you walk in your 
sleep, you don’t go out of the room. I shouldn’t like 
to walk in my sleep in a big house like this, and per¬ 
haps wake up in a cellar or out on the terrace.” 

Lady Heritage did an odd thing. Something flashed 
across her face as Jane was speaking, and she put both 
hands on the girl’s shoulders and pulled her round so 
that she faced the light. 

Jane met, for a moment, a most extraordinary look. 
It did not seem to go through her as Mr. Ember’s 
scrutiny had done, but it shook her more. She looked 
down and said shakily: 

“ What is it? Oh, please tell me if I have vexed 
you—oh, please . . 

Lady Heritage took her hands away. 

“ I had forgotten you walked in your sleep,” she 
said. “ I don’t like locked doors as a rule, but I sup¬ 
pose you had better keep yours fastened. I shouldn’t 
like you to walk into the sea and get drowned, or break 
your neck falling off the terrace. Get back to your 
bed. I’m just going to mine. I’ve been working late.” 

She went out, and it was a long, long time before 
Jane, who had heard the soft footfalls die away in the 
distance, dared open the door and take a hasty look 
along the corridor. It was quite empty. 

After another pause she went to the cupboard door 
and opened it. The flooring stretched unbroken; 

103 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


there was no square hole, and no Henry. She sat down 
on the floor, hesitated, and then knocked lightly. 

Under her very hand a board rose with a little 
jerk—a line of light showed, and Henry’s voice said 
softly: 

“ All clear?” 

“ Yes, be quick, I daren’t wait.” 

“ Who was it?” 

“ Lady Heritage.” 

“ What did she want?” 

“ I don’t know. She said she saw a light. Henry, 
she frightens me, she really does.” 

The board rose a little higher. 

“A sleuth who gets frightened is no earthly-” 

said Henry firmly. “ Now look here, Jane, I can get 
you out of this quite easily if you want to come. You 
are the only person in the house whom I haven’t inter¬ 
viewed. Mr. Ember said that of course I shouldn’t 
want to see you, as you did not get here until after the 
leakage must have taken place. I made no comment 
at the time, but it is perfectly open to me to insist on 
seeing you, to say that I am not satisfied with the 
interview, and to take you back to London for further 
interrogation.” 

Henry had opened the trap door about a foot. His 
face, lighted from below, looked very odd with the 
chin almost resting on a board at Jane’s feet and the 
trap held up by one hand and only just clearing his 
hair. Jane would have wanted to laugh if his last 
suggestion had appalled her less. 

“ Oh, you mustn’t,” she said. “ If you do that, it’s 
all up. Mr. Ember would never, never, never, allow 
you to interview me. He’d be afraid of what I might 
104 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


say, and he’d find some awful way of keeping me quiet. 
As to letting me go off to London with you, well, if 
we started we’d certainly never get there. And oh, 
Henry, please, please go away. I’m sure they suspect 
something, and if she comes again, or if he comes— 
oh, Henry, do go.” 

“ All right,” said Henry. “ Now, Jane, look here. 
I’m off before breakfast, but I can make an excuse to 
come down at any time if you want me. If anything 
is going wrong, or you get frightened, or if you want 
to get out of it write for patterns of jumper wool to 
the Misses Kent, Hermione Street, South Kensington. 
It’s a real wool shop and they’ll send you real patterns, 
but Miss Kent will ring me up the minute she gets 
your letter. I’ll come down straight away, and you 
look out for me here.” 

“ Do you mean you’ll come and stay? Won’t they 
suspect something?” 

“ They won’t know,” said Henry. “ Don’t ask me 
why, but send for me if you want me, and be very sure 
that I shall come. Got that address all right?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I’ll be off.” 

“ Yes, please go.” 

As a preliminary to going, Henry came up a step 
higher, set the torch on the floor, and took Jane by 
the hand. 

“ Don’t get frightened, Jane,” he said. “ I hate 
you to be frightened.” 

“ I’m not, not really.” 

Henry came up another step; the trap now rested on 
his shoulders. 

“ Oh, Henry, please . . .” 

105 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ I’m going,” said Henry. He continued to hold 
Jane’s hand and appeared immovable. Jane could 
of course have taken her hand away and left the cup¬ 
board, but this did not occur to her till afterwards. 

Quite suddenly Henry kissed her wrist, and a piece 
of the red flannel cuff. The next minute he was really 
gone. Perhaps it had occurred to him that he was a 
chaperon. 

Jane lay awake for a long time. 


106 


CHAPTER X 


H ENRY went away by an early train, and Jane 
came down to what, as a child, she had once 
described as a crumpled kind of day. She remem¬ 
bered “ darling Jimmy” looking at her in a vague 
way, and saying in his gentle, cultivated voice: 

“ Crumpled, my dear Jane? What do you mean 
by crumpled?” 

And Jane, frowning and direct: 

“ I mean a thing that’s got crumps in it, Jimmy 
darling,” and when Mr. Carruthers did not appear to 
find this a sufficient explanation, she had burst into 
emphatic elucidation: 

“ I was cross, and Nurse was cross, and you were 
cross. Yes, you were, and I had only just opened 
the study door ever so little; and I didn’t mean to 
upset the milk or to break the soap-dish; and oh, 
Jimmy, you must know what a crump is, and this 
day has been just chock-full of them. That’s why I 
said it was crumpled.” 

The day of Henry’s departure was undoubtedly a 
crumpled day. To start with, a letter from Mr. 
Molloy awaited Jane at the breakfast table. It 
began, “ My dear Renata,” and was signed, “ Your 
affectionate father, Cornelius R. Molloy.” Mr. Ember 
remarked at once upon the unusual circumstance of 
there being a letter for Miss Molloy, and Jane, acting 
on an impulse which she afterwards regretted, replied: 
107 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ It’s from my father. Do you want to see what he 
says?” 

“ Thank you,” said Jeffrey Ember. He glanced 
casually at the bald sentences in which Mr. Molloy 
hoped that his daughter was well, and expressed 
dislike of the climatic conditions which he had en¬ 
countered on the voyage. His eyes rested for a moment 
upon the signature, and quite suddenly he cast a 
bombshell at Jane. 

“ What does the ‘ R ’ stand for?” he said. 

Jane had the worst moment of panic with which 
her adventure had yet provided her. She was about 
to say that she did not know, and take the conse¬ 
quences, when Mr. Ember saved her. 

“ Is it Renatus?” he asked. Jane broke into 
voluble speech. 

“ Oh no,” she said, “ my name has nothing to do 
with his. I was called Renata after an aunt, my 
mother’s twin sister. They were exactly alike and 
devoted to each other, and I was called after my 
Aunt Renata, and her only daughter was called after 
my mother.” Here Jane bit the tip of her tongue 
and stopped, but she had not stopped in time. Mr. 
Ember’s eyes had left Molloy’s signature and were 
fixed upon her face. 

“ And your mother’s name?” he said. 

“ Jane,” faltered Jane. 

“And are you and your cousin as much alike as 
your mothers were?” 

Jane stared at her plate. She stared so hard that 
the gilt rim seemed to detach itself and float like a 
nimbus above a half-finished slice of buttered toast. 

“ I—I don’t know,” she replied. “ I don’t re- 
108 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


member my mother, and I never saw my aunt.” 
Once again she bit her tongue, and this time very hard 
indeed. She had been within an ace of saying, “ My 
Aunt Jane-” 

“ But you have seen your cousin; by the way, what 
is her surname?” 

“ Smith—Jane Smith.” 

“ You have seen your cousin, Jane Smith? Are you 
alike?” 

“ I have only seen her once.” Jane grasped her 
courage, and looked straight at Mr. Ember. He either 
knew something, or this was just idle teasing. In 
either case being afraid would not serve her. A spice 
of humour might. 

“ You’re frightfully interested in my aunts and 
cousins,” she said. “ Do you want to find another 
secretary just like me for some one? But I’m afraid 
my Cousin Jane isn’t available. She’s married to a 
man in Bolivia.” 

At this point Lady Heritage looked over the edge of 
The Times with a frown, and the conversation dropped. 
Jane finished her buttered toast, and admired herself 
because her hand did not shake. 

Lady Heritage seemed to be in a frowning mood. 
This, it appeared, was not one of the days when she dis¬ 
appeared behind the steel grating with Ember, leaving 
Jane to pursue her appointed tasks in the library. 
Instead, there was a general sorting of correspondence 
and checking of work already done, with the result that 
Jane found herself being played upon, as it were, by a 
jet or spray of hot water. The temperature varied, 
but the spray was continuous. A letter to which Lady 
Heritage particularly wished to refer was not to be 
109 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


found, a package of papers wrongly addressed had 
come back through the Dead Letter Office, and an un¬ 
answered invitation was discovered in the “ Answered ” 
file. By three o’clock that afternoon Jane had been 
made to feel that it was possible that the world might 
contain a person duller, more inept, and less competent 
than herself—possible, but not probable. 

“ I think you had better go for a walk, Miss 
Molloy,” said Lady Heritage; “perhaps some fresh 
air . . She did not finish the sentence, and Jane, only 
too thankful to escape, made haste from the presence. 

Ember had been right when he said that the grounds 
were extensive. 

Jane skirted the house and made her way through a 
space of rather formally kept garden to where a gravel 
path followed the edge of the cliff. For a time it was 
bordered by veronica and fuchsia bushes, but after a 
while these ceased and left the bare down with its 
rather coarse grass, tiny growing plants, tangled 
brambles, and bright yellow clumps of gorse. The path 
went up and down. Sometimes it almost overhung the 
sea. Always a tall hedge of barbed wire straggled 
across the view and spoilt it. 

The fact that a powerful electric current ran through 
the wire and made it dangerous to touch added to the 
dislike with which she regarded it. 

It was a grey afternoon with a whipping wind from 
the north-west that beat up little crests of foam on the 
lead-coloured waves and made Jane clutch at her hat 
every now and then. She thought it cold when she 
started, but by and by she began to enjoy the sense of 
motion, the wind’s buffets, and the wide, clear outlook. 
At the farthest point of the headland she stopped, 
110 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


warm and glowing. The path ran out to the edge of 
the cliff. On the landward side the rock rose sharply, 
naked of grass, and heaped with rough boulders. A 
small cave or hollow ran inwards for perhaps four feet. 
In front of it, in fact almost within it, stood a stone 
bench pleasantly sheltered by the overhanging rock 
and curving sides of the hollow. Jane felt no need of 
shelter. Instead of sitting down, she climbed upon 
the back of the bench and, steadying herself against 
a rock, looked out over the wire and saw how the cliff 
fell away, sheer at first, and then in a series of jagged, 
tumbled steps until the rocks went down into the sea. 

After a time Jane scrambled down and was hesitating 
as to whether she would turn or not when a sound 
attracted her attention. 

The path ended by the stone bench, but there seemed 
to be quite a practicable grassy track beyond. 

The sound which Jane had heard was the sound 
made by a stone which has become displaced on a hill¬ 
side. It must have been a very heavy stone. It fell 
with a muffled crash. Then came another sound 
which she could not place. She looked all round and 
could see nothing. 

Something frightened her. 

All at once she realised that she was a long way from 
the house and quite out of sight. Turning quickly, she 
began to walk back along the way that she had come, 
but she had not gone a dozen paces before she heard 
scrambling footsteps behind her. Looking over her 
shoulder, she saw the man George Patterson standing 
beside the stone seat which she had just left. He made 
some sort of beckoning sign with his hand and called 
out, but a puff of wind took away the words, and only a 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


hoarse, and as she thought, threatening sound reached 
her ears. 

Without waiting to hear or see any more she began 
to run, and with the first flying step that she took there 
came upon her a blind, driving panic which sent her 
racing down the path as one races in a nightmare. 

George Patterson started in pursuit. He called 
again twice, and the sound of his voice was a whip to 
Jane’s terror. After at the most a minute he gave up 
the chase, and Jane flew on, pursued by nothing worse 
than her own fear. 

Just by the first fuchsia bush she ran, blind and 
panting, into the very arms of Mr. Ember. The impact 
nearly knocked him down, and it may be considered as 
certain that he was very much taken aback. 

Jane came back to a knowledge of her whereabouts 
to find herself gripping Mr. Ember’s arm and stammer¬ 
ing out that something had frightened her. 

“ What?” inquired Ember. 

“ I—don’t—know,” said Jane, half sobbing, but 
already conscious that she did not desire to confide in 
Jeffrey Ember. 

“ But you must know.” 

“ I don’t.” 

With a little gasp Jane let go, and wished ardently 
that her knees would stop shaking. Ember looked at 
her very curiously. 

Jane had often wondered what his queer cold eyes 
reminded her of. Curiously enough, it was now, in 
the midst of her fright, that she knew. They were 
like pebbles—the greeny-grey ones which lie by the 
thousand on the seashore. As a rule they were dull 
and hard, just as the pebbles are dull and hard when 
112 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


they are dry. But sometimes when he was angry, 
when he cross-questioned you, or when he looked at 
Lady Heritage the dullness vanished and they looked 
as the pebbles look when some sudden wave has 
touched them. Jane did not know when she disliked 
them most. 

They brightened slowly now as they fixed themselves 
upon her, and Ember said: 

“ Do you know, I was hoping I might meet you. 
We haven’t had a real talk since you came.” 

“ No,” said Jane. 

Her manner conveyed no ardent desire for con¬ 
versation. 

“ Shall we walk a little?” pursued her companion; 
“ the wind’s cold for standing. I really do want to 
talk to you.” 

Jane said nothing at all. If Ember wished to talk, 
let him talk. She was still shaky, and not at all in 
the mood for fencing. 

“ Well, how do you like being here? How do we 
strike you?” 

Ember spoke quite casually, and Jane thought it 
was strange that he and Henry should both have asked 
her the same question. Her reply, however, differed. 

“ I don’t know,” she said. 

“ Don’t you? My dear Miss Renata, what a really 
extraordinary number of things you—don’t know! 
You don’t know what frightened you, and you don’t 
know whether you like us or not.” 

Jane’s temper carried her away. 

“ Oh yes, I do,” she said viciously, and looked full 
at the bright pebble eyes. 

Ember laughed. 


113 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“What do you think of Lady Heritage? Wonder¬ 
ful, isn’t she?” 

“ Oh yes,” said Jane. “ She’s the most beautiful 
person I’ve ever seen. Too beautiful, don’t you 
think?” 

If she desired to interest Jeffrey Ember, it appeared 
that she had succeeded. His attention was certainly 
arrested. 

“ Why too beautiful?” 

Jane had an impulse towards frankness. 

“ I think she’s too . . . everything. She has so 
many gifts, it does not seem as if there could be scope 
for them all.” 

Ember looked at Jane for a moment. Then he looked 
away. In that moment Jane saw something—she could 
not really tell what. The nearest that she could get to 
it was “ triumph.” Yes, that was it, triumph. 

As he looked away he said, very low, “ She will have 
scope enough,” and there was a little tingling silence. 

He broke it in an utterly unforeseen manner. With 
an abrupt change of voice he asked: 

“ Ever learn chemistry?” 

“ No,” said Jane, and then wondered whether she 
was telling the truth about Renata. 

“ ’M—know what a formula is?” 

Jane put a dash of ignorant conviction into her voice: 

“ Oh, I think so—oh yes, of course.” 

“ Well, what is it?” 

She looked puzzled. 

“ It’s difficult to explain things, isn’t it? Of course 
I know ‘ formulate,’ and er—‘ formal.’ But it’s—it’s 
something learned, isn’t it?” 

Ember’s sarcastic smile showed for a moment. With 
114 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

a horrid inward qualm Jane wondered whether she 
had overdone Renata’s ignorance. 

“ A formula is a prescription,” said Ember slowly. 
“ If you remember that, I think you’ll find it all quite 
simple. So that Formula * A ’ is simply a prescrip¬ 
tion for making something up, labelled ‘A’ for con¬ 
venience’ sake. 

Jane let her eyes become quite round. 

“ Is it?” she said in the blankest tone at her com¬ 
mand. “ But . . . but what is Formula £ A,’ Mr. 
Ember?” 

“ That, my dear Miss Renata, is what a good many 
people would like to know.” 

“ Would they? Why?” 

“ They would. In fact, some of them—person or 
persons unknown—wanted to know so much that 
they have gone to the length of stealing Formula 
‘ A.’ That, at least, is Captain March’s opinion, and 
the reason for his visit here. So I should be careful, 
very careful indeed, about betraying any knowledge of 
Formula ‘ A.’ ” 

Jane whisked round, stared blankly, and said in 
largest capitals: 

“ ME?” 

Then, after a pause, she burst out laughing. “ What 
do you mean?” 

“ You either know, or you don’t know,” said Jeffrey 
Ember. “ If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell 
you. If you do, I have just given you a warning. A 
very valuable Government secret has been stolen, and 
if Captain March were to suspect that you were in any 
way involved—well, I suppose ... I need not tell you 
that the consequences would be serious beyond words.” 

115 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Jane gazed at him in a breathless delight which she 
hoped was not apparent. The day had been singularly 
lacking in pleasantness, but it was undoubtedly pleas¬ 
ing to receive a solemn warning of the dreadful fate 
that might overtake her if Henry should suspect that 
she knew anything about Formula “ A.” 

“ But I haven’t the slightest idea what Formula 
‘ A ’ can be,” she said. “It sounds frightfully excit¬ 
ing. Do tell me some more. Was it stolen? And how 
could anything be stolen here?” 

“ Who frightened you?” he said suddenly. 

Jane caught her breath. 

“ It was a stone,” she said. “ I don’t know why 
it frightened me so. It fell over the edge of the cliff 
and gave me a horrid nightmare-ish sort of feeling. I 
started running and then I couldn’t stop. It was 
frightfully stupid of me.” 

They walked on a few paces. Then Ember said: 

“ Captain March will probably come down here 
again. I managed to save you from an interview 
with him this time, but if he comes again, and if he 
sees you, remember there is only one safe way for 
you—you know nothing, you never have known 
anything, as far as you are concerned there is nothing 
to know. You shouldn’t find that difficult. You 
have quite a talent for not knowing things. Improve 
it.” He paused, smiled slightly, and went on, “ You 
said just now that it was frightfully stupid of you 
to be frightened. Sometimes, Miss Renata, it is a 
great deal more stupid not to be frightened. Believe 
me, this is one of those times.” 

They walked home in silence. 


116 


CHAPTER XI 


HILST Jane was running away from fear, 



▼ ^ down the gravel path of the cliff’s edge, Cap¬ 
tain March was about midway through an interview 
with his chief. 

Henry’s chief was a large man who strongly resem¬ 
bled a clean and highly intelligent pig. A very little 
hair appeared to grow reluctantly on his head; his face 
was pink and clean-shaven. He had inherited the 
patronymic of Le Mesurier, his parents in his baptism 
had given him the romantic name of Julian, and a 
grateful Government had conferred upon him the hon¬ 
our of knighthood. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to add 
that, from the moment that he emerged from the 
nursery and set foot within the precincts of his first 
preparatory school, he had been known exclusively as 

“ Piggy.” 

There is a story of a debutante who, at a large and 
formal dinner-party, was discovered during a sudden 
silence to be addressing him as Sir Piggott. The dinner¬ 
party waited breathlessly. Piggy smiled his benign 
smile and explained that it had not been his good for¬ 
tune to be called after his aunt, Miss Piggott. . . . “ I 
expect you have heard of her? She left all her money 
to a home for cats, whereas, if my parents had done 
their duty and invited her to be my godmother, I 
should be paying at least twice as much income tax as 
I do now. Never undervalue your relations, my dear 


117 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Miss Browne.” The aunt was, of course, apocryphal; 
and after dinner each of the older ladies in turn took 
the debutante aside, and told her so—as a kindness. 
To each of them she made the same reply, which was 
to the effect that “ Piggy ” was a darling. She married 
him two years later. But all this has nothing to do 
with Henry’s interview with his chief. 

Sir Julian was speaking: 

“ It’s very unsatisfactory. You say they have been 
complying with all the suggestions in the original 
Government instructions?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Sir Julian frowned. 

“ It’s very unsatisfactory,” he repeated. “ Sir 
William . . . well, it’s six months since I saw him, and 
he looked all right then.” 

“ He looks all right now,” said Henry. “ He is all 
right except on his own particular subject. He’d 
discuss politics, unemployment, foreign affairs, or 
anything else, and you wouldn’t notice anything, but 
the minute he comes to his own subject everything 
worries and irritates him. He’s lost grip. As far as 
I can make out, he leaves everything to his daughter 
and the secretary. They are competent enough, 
but . . .” Henry did not finish his sentence. 

“ Ah yes, the secretary,” said Sir Julian. “ What’s 
his name? Yes, Ember, Jeffrey Ember. . . .” He 
turned an indicator under his hand, and spoke rapidly 
into the telephone beside him. “ As soon as possible,” 
he concluded. 

“ This girl now,” he said, looking at Henry. “ I 
don’t see how this statement of hers can be squared 
with any of the facts as we know them.” 

118 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


As he spoke he picked up the notes which Henry had 
taken in the dark cupboard. 

“ She made a suggestion herself/’ said Henry. He 
paused, and looked with a good deal of diffidence at 
Sir Julian. 

“ Well?” 

“ It is just within the bounds of possibility that the 
Government experiments are being used as a blind. 
That was her suggestion, sir.” 

Sir Julian was busily engaged in drawing on his 
blotting-paper. He drew in rapid succession cats with 
arched backs and bottle-brush tails, always beginning 
with the tail and finishing with the whiskers, three on 
each side. Henry rightly interpreted this as a sign that 
he was to continue. 

“ The conversation which was overheard at Molloy’s 
flat referred to a Formula ‘ A/ which cannot possibly 
be the Formula ‘ A ’ which we know. There may 
be a Formula ‘ A ’ of which we know nothing, and it 
may constitute a grave danger. Ember”—Henry 
paused—“ Ember is not only in a position of great 
responsibility with regard to our—the official Formula 
‘ A/ but he also appears to be mixed up with this other 
unofficial and possibly dangerous Formula ‘ A.’ The 
question, to my mind, is, ‘ What about Ember?’ ” 

Sir Julian continued to draw cats. Suddenly he 
looked up, and said: 

“ How long has Patterson been there?” 

“ A fortnight,” said Henry. “ We recalled Jamieson, 
you remember, and sent him down.” 

“ Then, if there were unofficial experiments, they 
would be before his time?” 

“ Yes,” said Henry. 


119 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Would it be possible—no, I’ll put it another way. 
Officially Luttrell Marches is impregnable, but un¬ 
officially—come March, the place practically belongs 
to you—is there any way in which there might be 
coming and going that would defy detection? You 
see, your hypothesis demands either wholesale corrup¬ 
tion of Government workmen, or the introduction of 
other experiments.” 

There was a pause. Then Henry said: 

“ In confidence, sir, there is a way, but, to the best 
of my knowledge, it is known only to myself and one 
other person.” 

“ It might be discovered.” 

“ I don’t think so. It never has been.” 

“ Well, I would suggest your ascertaining, in con¬ 
junction with the other person, whether there is any 
evidence to show that the secret has been discovered 
and the way made use of.” 

The telephone bell rang. Sir Julian lifted the 
receiver and listened. 

“ Yes,” he said—“ yes.” Then he began to take 
notes. “ Spell the name, please — yes. Nineteen 
hundred and five? Is that all? Thank you.” 

He hung up the receiver, and turned to Henry. 

“ Ember’s dossier,” he said. “ Not much in it at 
first sight. ‘ Born 1880. Son of Charles Ember, 
partner in Jarvis & Ember—manufacturing chemists; 
firm liquidated in 1896. Education till then at 
Harrow, and subsequently at Heidelberg, where he 
took degrees in medicine and science. From 1905 
to 1912 at Chicago, U. S. A., as personal assistant to 
Eugene K. Blumfield of Nitrates Ltd. Engaged as 
secretary by Sir William Carr-Magnus during his 
120 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


American tour in autumn of 1912. Total exemption 
during War on Sir William’s representations.’ ’M— 
blameless as a blancmange — at first sight. We 
wouldn’t have him here at all if we hadn’t been told 
to get the record of every one employed at Luttrell 
Marches. Well, March?” 

Henry looked up with his candid, diffident air. 

“ Heidelberg—Chicago—nitrates,” he said, with a 
little pause after each word. Then—“ I wonder if it 
was in Chicago that he met Molloy. Molloy was a 
leading light of the I. W. W. there in 1911.” 

Piggy looked up for a moment. 

“ ’M, yes,” he said. “ Did you get on to the subject 
of Molloy at all?” 

“ I had to be very careful,” said Henry, with a 
worried air. “ I was introduced to Miss Molloy, so I 
felt that it would look odd if I asked no questions. On 
the other hand, I was afraid of asking too many. You 
see, sir, if there’s really some infernal, underground 
plot going on, with the general smash-up of civilisation 
as its object, that girl is in a most awfully dangerous 
position. I wish to Heaven she was out of it, but I’m 
not at all sure that she isn’t right when she says that 
the most dangerous thing of all would be for her to 
give the show away by bolting.” 

“ ’M, yes,” said Piggy. “ Your concern for the 
young lady’s safety does you credit — attractive 
damsel in distress, eh? Nice, pretty young thing, 
and all that?” 

Henry blushed furiously, and said with some stiff¬ 
ness, “ As I told you, sir, we are old friends, and I 
think, it’s natural-” 

“ Entirely, entirely.” Piggy waved a large, fat 
121 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


hand with a pencil in it. “ But to get back to Ember— 
what did you ask him?” 

“ Well, I said I had known one or two Molloys, and 
asked whether Miss Molloy was the cricketer’s daugh¬ 
ter. Ember was quite forthcoming, rather too forthcom¬ 
ing, I thought. Said he’d met Molloy in the States, and 
that he was a queer card, but good company. Explained 
how surprised he was when he ran into him at Victoria 
Station after not seeing him for years. Then, quite 
casually and naturally, gave me to understand that 
Molloy had put him up for a couple of nights. He 
really did it very well. Said the daughter was a nice 
little thing just from school, that he thought she would 
suit Lady Heritage, and how grateful Molloy was, 
as he was just off to the States, and didn’t know what 
to do with the girl. The impression I got was that he 
was taking no chances—not leaving anything for me to 
find out afterwards.” Henry hesitated for a moment, 
and then said, “ The thing that struck me most was 
this. I didn’t ask to interview Miss Molloy because I 
didn’t want to make her position more dangerous than 
it already is. That is to say, I assumed that there 
was danger, which really means assuming a criminal 
conspiracy. Now, if there were no danger and no 
criminal conspiracy, why on earth did every one make 
it so easy for me not to interview Miss Molloy? It 
seems a little thing, but it struck me—it struck me 
awfully, sir. You see, I took a roll-call of the employes 
first, and checked them by the official list. Then I 
went down to the stables with Sir William, and we 
went through all the outdoor servants. And I finished 
up in Sir William’s study, where I saw the domestic 
staff—and Mr. Ember. From first to last, no one 
122 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


suggested that I should see Miss Molloy. In the end, 
I thought it would be too marked not to bring her in 
at all, so I said to Lady Heritage, * What about your 
secretary?’ and she said, ‘ Why, she’s only just come 
. . . you don’t need to see her.’ I got nervous and 
left it at that. I think now that I ought to have seen 
her, with Lady Heritage and Ember in the room; then 
they couldn’t have suspected her of telling me any¬ 
thing.” 

Piggy looked up from his cats, and looked down 
again. Very carefully he gave each cat a fourth 
whisker on the left-hand side. Then he fixed his 
small, light eyes on Henry and said: 

“ They?” 

At 9.30 that evening Sir Julian marked a place in 
his book with a massive thumb, glanced across the 
domestic hearth at his wife, and observed: 

“ M’ dear.” 

Lady Le Mesurier raised her charming blue eyes 
from the child’s frock which she was embroidering. 

“ I have news to break to you—news concerning the 
lad Henry. Prepare for a shock. He is another’s. 
You have lost him, my poor Isobel.” 

“ I never had him,” said Isobel placidly. 

“ His mamma thought you had. She did her very 
best to warn me. I rather think she considered that 
your young affections were also entangled. I said to 
her solemnly, ‘ My dear Mrs. March—I beg your 
pardon—my dear Mrs. de Luttrelle March—of course 
he is in love with Isobel. I expect young men to be in 
love with her. I am in love with her myself.’ ” 

“ Piggy, you didn’t!” 


123 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ No, m’ dear, but I should have liked to. She is so 
very large and pink that the temptation to say it, and 
to watch the pink turn puce, was almost more than I 
could resist. But you have interrupted me. I was 
about to break to you a portentous fact. Our Henry 
is in love.” 

“ Oh, Piggy!” said Isobel. 

“ Yes,” continued Henry’s chief—“ Henry is un¬ 
doubtedly for it. Another lost soul. It’s always these 
promising lads that are snatched by the predatory sex.” 

“ Piggy—we’re not-” 

“ M’ dear, you are . It’s axiomatic, beyond cavil or 
argument. Like the python in the natural history 
books, you fascinate us first, and then engulf us.” 

Isobel allowed a fleeting smile to lift the corners of 
her very pretty mouth. 

“ Oh, Piggy, what a mouthful you would be!” she 
murmured. 

“ Henry,” pursued Sir Julian—“ Henry is in the 
fascinated stage. He blushed one of the most modestly 
revealing blushes I have ever beheld. The whole 
story is of the most thrillingly romantic and intriguing 
nature, and I regret to say, m’ dear, that I cannot tell 
you a single word of it.” 

Lady Le Mesurier took up a blue silk thread. 

“ Oh, Piggy!” she said reproachfully. 

Sir Julian beamed upon her. 

“ My official duty forbids,” he said, with great enjoy¬ 
ment. “ Dismiss the indecent curiosity which I see 
stamped upon your every feature. Upon Henry’s 
affair my lips are sealed. I am a tomb. I merely wish 
to have a small bet with you as to whether Henry’s 
mamma will queer his pitch or not.” 

124 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ But, Piggy darling, how can I lay odds if I don’t 
know anything? Tell me, is she pretty?” 

“ Isobel, is that the spirit in which to approach this 
solemn subject? As an old married woman, you 
should ask, Is she virtuous? Is she thrifty? Is she 
worthy of Henry? And to all these questions I should 
make the same reply—I do not know.” 

Isobel leaned forward, and still with that faint, 
delightful smile she pricked the back of Sir Julian’s 
hand sharply with the point of her embroidery needle. 

“ The serpent’s tooth! ” he said, and opened his 
book. “ Isobel, you interrupt my studies. I merely 
wish to commend three aspects of the case to your 
feminine intuition. First—Henry is in love; second— 
he has yet to reckon with his mamma; third—I may 
at any time ring you up and instruct you to prepare the 
guest chamber for Henry’s girl.” 

Lady Le Mesurier began to work a blue ribbon bow 
round the stalks of some pink and white daisies. 

“ You’re rather a lamb, Piggy,” she said. 


125 


CHAPTER XII 

TT was next morning, whilst Jane was sorting and 
A arranging the papers for the library table, that she 
caught sight of Henry’s first message. She very nearly 
missed it, for the fold of the paper cut right across 
the agony column, and what caught her eye was the 
one word that passed as a signature, “ Thursday.” It 
startled her so much that she dropped the paper, and, 
in snatching at it, knocked over a pile of magazines. 

Lady Heritage looked over her shoulder with a 
frown, tapped with her foot, and then went on with 
her writing in a silence that uttered more reproof 
than words could have done. 

Jane picked everything up as silently as possible. 
As she put the papers on the table, she laid The Times 
out flat, and, bending over it, read the message: 

“ You will receive a letter from me. Trust the 
bearer. Thursday.” 

She put all the papers neatly in their places, and went 
to her writing-table with an intense longing to be alone, 
to be able to think what this might mean, and to won¬ 
der who—who would be the bearer of Henry’s letter. 
She hoped ardently that Lady Heritage would have 
business in the laboratories, and whilst these thoughts, 
and hopes, and wonderings filled her mind, she had to 
write neat and legible replies to the apparently inex¬ 
haustible number of persons who desired Lady Heritage 
to open bazaars, speak at public meetings, subscribe to 
126 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


an indefinite number of charities, or contribute to the 
writer’s support. 

When, at last, she was alone in her own room, she 
was tingling with excitement. At any moment some 
one, some unknown friend and ally, might present 
himself. It was exciting, but, she thought, rather 
risky. 

For instance, supposing Henry’s letter came, by any 
mischance, into the wrong hands—and letters were 
mislaid and stolen sometimes—what a perfectly dread¬ 
ful chapter of misfortunes might ensue. She frowned, 
and decided that Henry had been rash. 

It was with a pleasant feeling of superiority that she 
put on her hat and went out into the garden to pick 
tulips. 

The weather had changed in the night, and it was 
hot and sunny, with the sudden dazzling heat of mid- 
April. In the walled garden the south border was full 
of violet-scented yellow tulips, each looking at this 
new hot sun with a jet-black eye. A sheet of forget- 
me-nots repeated the sheer blue of the sky. 

Jane picked an armful of tulips and a sheaf of 
leopard’s bane. Strictly speaking, she should then have 
gone in to put the flowers in water for the adornment 
of the Yellow Drawing-Room. Instead, she made her 
way to the farthest corner of the garden and basked. 

At first she looked at the flowers, but after a while 
her eyelids fell. 

Jane has never admitted that she went to sleep, but, 
if she was thinking with her eyes shut, her thoughts 
must have been of an extremely engrossing nature, for 
it is certain that she heard neither the opening nor the 
shutting of a door in the wall beside her. She did feel 
127 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


a shadow pass between herself and the sun, and open¬ 
ing her eyes quickly she saw standing beside her the 
very man from whom she had fled in terror yesterday. 

The sunlight fell from upon him, showing the shabby 
clothes, the tall, stooping figure, the grizzled beard, 
and that disfiguring scar. 

With a great start Jane attempted to rise, only to 
discover that a wheelbarrow may make a very comfort¬ 
able chair, but that it is uncommonly difficult to get 
out of in a hurry. To her horror the man, George 
Patterson, took her firmly by the wrist and pulled her 
to her feet. She shrank intensely from his touch, 
received an impression of unusual strength, and then, 
to her overwhelming surprise, she heard him say in a 
low, well-bred voice, “ I have a letter for you, Miss 
Smith.” 

“ Oh, hush!” said Jane—“ oh, please, hush!” 

“ All right, I won’t do it again. Look here, I want 
to say a few words to you, but we had better not be 
seen together. Here’s your letter. Stay where you 
are for five minutes, and then come down to the 
potting-shed. Don’t come in; stay by the door and 
tie your shoe-lace.” 

He went off with his dragging step, and left Jane 
dumb. There was a folded note in her hand, and in 
her mind so intense a shock of surprise as to rob her 
very thoughts of expression. 

After what seemed like a long paralysed month, she 
opened the note which bore no address, and read, 
pencilled in Henry’s clear and very ornamental hand, 
“ The bearer is trustworthy.—H. L. M.” 

When she had looked so long at Henry’s initials 
that they had blurred and cleared again, not once but 
128 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

many times, she walked mechanically down the path 
until she came to the shed. Beside it was a barrel 
full of rain-water. Into this she dipped Henry’s note, 
made sure that the words were totally illegible, poked 
a hole in the border, and covered the sodden paper 
with earth. Then at the potting-shed door she knelt 
and became occupied with her shoe-lace. 

“ Henry saw me after he saw you,” said George 
Patterson’s voice. “ He thought it might be a com- 
for to you to know there is a friend on the spot; but 
I’m afraid I gave you a fright yesterday.” 

“You did,” said Jane, “but I don’t know why. I was 
a perfect fool, and I ran right into Mr. Ember’s arms.” 

“ Did you tell him what frightened you?” said 
Patterson quickly. 

“ No, I wasn’t quite such a fool as that. Please, 
who are you?” 

“ My name here is George Patterson. I’m a friend 
of Henry’s. If you want me, I’m here.” 

“ If I want you,” said Jane, “ how am I to get at 
you?” 

Mr. Patterson considered. 

“ There’s a wide sill inside your window.” (And 
how on earth do you know that? thought Jane.) 
“ If you put a big jar of, say, those yellow tulips there, 
I’ll know you want to speak to me, and I’ll come here 
to this potting-shed as soon as I can. You know 
they keep us pretty busy with roll-calls and things of 
that sort. I only got back yesterday by the skin of 
my teeth—I had to bolt.” 

“ Did you—you didn’t pass me.” 

“ No, I didn’t pass you.” There was just a trace 
of amusement in Mr. Patterson’s voice. 

129 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Jane pulled her shoe-lace undone, and began to tie 
it all over again. 

“Hush!” she said very quick and low. “ Some one 
is coming.” 

Just where the path ended, not half a dozen yards 
away, the red-brick wall was pierced by a door. Two 
round, Scotch rose-bushes, all tiny green leaf and 
sharp brown prickle, grew like large pin-cushions on 
either side of the interrupted border. Bright pink 
nectarine buds shone against the brick like coral studs. 
The ash-coloured door, rough and sun-blistered, was 
opening slowly, and into the garden came Raymond 
Heritage, pushing the door with one hand and holding 
a basket of bulbs in the other. She was looking back 
over her shoulder, at something or someone beside 
her. 

From inside the potting-shed came Patterson’s voice 
—just a breath: 

“ Who?” 

“ Lady Heritage.” 

Jane was up as she spoke and moving away. She 
reached the door just as Raymond closed it and, 
turning, saw her. 

“ Oh, Miss Molloy—I was really looking for you. 
Is Gars tin anywhere about?” 

“I haven’t seen him,” murmured Jane, as if the 
absent gardener might be blooming unnoticed in one 
of the borders. 

“He’s not in the potting-shed? I’ll just look in 
and see. I want to stand over him and see that he 
puts these black irises where I want them to go. 
They come from Palestine, and the last lot failed 
entirely because he was so obstinate. I’ll get a trowel 
130 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


and mark the place I think.” She moved forward as 
she spoke, and Jane, horror-struck, stammered: 

“Let me look. It’s so dusty in there.” 

She was back at the door of the shed, but Lady 
Heritage was beside her. “ I want a trowel, too,” 
she said, and Jane felt herself gently pushed over the 
threshold. 

They were both just inside the door. It seemed 
dark after the strong light outside. There was a row 
of windows along one side, and a broad deal shelf 
under them. There were piles and piles of pots and 
boxes. There were hanks of bass and rows of tools, 
There were watering-cans. There was a length of 
rubber hose. But there was no George Patterson. 

Jane put her hand behind her, gripped the jamb of 
the door, and moved back a pace so that she could 
lean against it. The pots, the tools, the bass and the 
rubber hose danced before her bewildered eyes. 

Lady Heritage put her basket of bulbs down on the 
wide shelf and said: 

“ Garstin ought to be here. He’s really very tire¬ 
some. That’s the worst of old servants. When a 
gardener has been in a place for forty years as Garstin 
has, he owns it.” 

“ Shall I find him?” said Jane. 

“ No, not now. I really want to talk to you. I’ve 
just been speaking to Jeffrey Ember, and he tells me 
you had a fright yesterday. What frightened you?” 

“ Nothing—my own silliness.” 

Jane felt as if she must scream. George Patterson 
had disappeared as if by a conjuring trick. Where 
had he gone to? Where was he? It was just like 
being in a dream. 


131 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Raymond Heritage seemed to tower before her in 
her white dress. Her uncovered head almost touched 
the low beam above the door. 

“ Jeffrey said you were blind with fright—that you 
ran right into him. He said you were as white as a 
sheet and shaking all over. I want to know what 
frightened you.” 

“ A stone—it fell into the sea-” 

“What made it fall? A man? What man?” 

Jane leaned against the door-post, her breath coming 
and going, her eyes held by those imperious eyes. 

“A stone,” she said; “it fell—I ran away.” 

“ Miss Molloy,” said Lady Heritage, “you walked 
to the end of the headland, out of sight of the house. 
Whilst you were there something gave you a serious 
fright. Something—or somebody. This is all non¬ 
sense about a stone. Whom did you see on the head¬ 
land, for you certainly saw somebody? No, don’t look 
away; I want you to look at me, please.” 

“ I don’t know why I was so frightened,” said Jane. 
“ It just came over me.” 

Lady Heritage looked at her very gravely. 

“ If you saw any stranger on the headland, it is your 
absolute duty to tell me. Where secrets of such value 
are in question it is necessary to watch every avenue 
and to neglect no suspicious circumstance. If you are 
trying to screen any one, you are acting very foolishly 
—very foolishly indeed. I warn you, and I ask you 
again. What frightened you?” 

“ I don’t know,” said Jane in a little whispering 
voice. “ Why, why do you think there was any one?” 

“ I don’t think,” said Lady Heritage briefly. “ I 
know. Mr. Ember went up to the headland after he 
132 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


left you, and there were footmarks in the gravel. Some 
man had undoubtedly been there, and you must have 
seen him. Mr. Ember made the entire round and saw 
no one, but some one had been there. Now will you 
tell me what you saw?” 

“ Oh!” said Jane. Rather to her own astonishment 
she began to cry. “ Oh, that’s why I was frightened 
then! The stone fell so suddenly, and I didn’t know 
why—why-” 

The sobs choked her. 

Lady Heritage stood looking at her for a moment. 

“ Are you just an arrant little fool,” she said in a low 
voice, “ or . . . ” 

“ Oh, I’m not!” sobbed Jane. “ Oh, I’ve never been 
called such a thing before! I know I’m not clever, but 
I don’t think you ought to call me a f—f—fool.” 

Lady Heritage pressed her lips together, and walked 
past Jane and out into the sunshine. She stood there 
for a moment tapping with her foot. Then she called 
rather impatiently: 

“ Miss Molloy! Dry your eyes and come here.” 

Jane came, squeezing a damp handkerchief into a 
ball. 

“ Bring your flowers in; I see you’ve left them over 
there to die in the sun. I’m driving into Withstead 
this afternoon and you can come with me. I have to 
see Mrs. Cottingham about some University extension 
lectures, and she telephoned just now to say would I 
bring you. She has a girl staying with her who thinks 
she must have been at school with you or one of your 
cousins. Her name is Daphne Todhunter.” 

Jane stood perfectly still. Daphne Todhunter? 
Arnold Todhunter’s sister Daphne! Renata’s friend! 

133 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


But Daphne must know that Arnold was married? 
The question was—whom had Arnold married. Had 
his family welcomed (by letter) Jane Smith or Renata 
Molloy to its bosom? If Renata Molloy, how in the 
world was a second Renata to be explained to Miss 
Daphne Todhunter? 

“ Miss Molloy, what’s the matter with you?” said 
Lady Heritage. 

Jane could not think quickly enough. Supposing 
Lady Heritage went to Mrs. Cottingham’s without her; 
and supposing Daphne Todhunter were to say that her 
brother Arnold had married a girl called Renata 
Molloy? 

It was too much to hope that Arnold had carried 
discretion to the point of telling his own family that 
he had married an unknown Jane Smith. 

Jane suddenly threw up her chin and squared her 
shoulders. The colour came back into her cheeks. 

“ Nothing,” she said, with a little caught breath. 
“ I’m sorry I was so silly, and for crying, and if I was 
rude to you. It’s most awfully kind of you to take 
me into Withstead.” 

If there were any music to be faced, Jane was going 
to face it. At least the tune should not be called 
behind her back. 


134 


CHAPTER XIII 


FEELING of exhilaration amounting to reck- 



lessness possessed Jane as she put on the white 
serge coat and skirt sacred to the Sabbath crocodile. 
Attired in it Renata, side by side with Daphne Tod- 
hunter, had, doubtless, walked many a time to church 
and back. In front of her two white serge backs, be¬ 
hind her more white serge, and more, and more, and 
more. Jane’s head reeled. She detested this garment, 
but considered it appropriate to the occasion. 

They drove into Withstead across the marshes. 
The sun blazed, and all the tiny marsh plants seemed 
to be growing and stretching themselves. 

Mrs. Cottingham lived in a villa on the outskirts of 
the town, and was ashamed of it. She had married 
kind little Dr. Cottingham, but imagined that she had 
condescended in doing so. Her reasons for thinking 
this were not apparent. 

Jane followed Lady Heritage into the dark, rather 
stuffy drawing-room, and beheld a middle-aged woman 
with a rigidly controlled Victorian figure, a tightly 
netted grey fringe, and a brown satin dress with a good 
many little gold beads upon it. She had a breathless 
sense of the extraordinary way in which the room was 
overcrowded. Every inch of the walls was covered 
with photographs, fans, engravings, and china plates. 
Almost every inch of floor space was covered with small 
ornamental tables crowded with knick-knacks. There 


135 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


was a carved screen, and an ebonised overmantel with 
looking-glass panels. There was a Japanese umbrella 
in the fireplace. 

Jane’s eyes looked hastily into every corner. There 
were more things than she had ever seen in one room 
before, but there was no Daphne Todhunter. Mrs. 
Cottingham was shaking hands with her. She had a 
fat hand and squeezed you. 

“ And are you Daphne’s Miss Molloy?” she said. 
“ She was wildly excited at the prospect of meeting 
you, and I said at once, ‘ I’ll just ring up Luttrell 
Marches, and ask Lady Heritage to bring her here this 
afternoon.’ I thought I might do that. You see, I 
only happened to mention your name this morning, 
and Daphne was so excited, and she goes away to¬ 
morrow, so it was the only chance. So I thought I 
would just ring up and ask Lady Heritage to bring 
you. I said to Daphne at once, ‘ Lady Heritage is 
so kind, I’m sure she will bring Miss Molloy.’ ” 

Jane saw Lady Heritage’s eyebrows rise very 
slightly. She moved a step, and instantly Mrs. Cot¬ 
tingham had turned from Jane: 

“Why Lady Heritage, you’re standing! Now I 
always say this is the most comfortable chair.” 

Her voice went flowing on, but Jane suddenly 
ceased to hear a word she said, for a door at the far 
end of the room was flung open. On the threshold 
appeared Miss Daphne Todhunter. 

In common with most other Daphnes, Cynthias and 
Ianthes, she was short and rather heavily built. Her 
brown hair was untidy. She wore the twin coat and 
skirt to that which was adorning Jane. 

With an exclamation of rapture, she rushed across 
136 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the room, dislodging a book from one little table and 
an ash-tray from another. 

(“ Her eyes are exactly like gooseberries which have 
been boiled until they are brown,” thought Jane, “ and 
I know she’s going to kiss me.”) 

She not only kissed Jane, she hugged her. Two 
stout arms and a waft of white rose scent enveloped 
Jane’s shrinking form. 

After a moment in which she wondered how long this 
embrace would last, Jane managed to detach herself. 
Mrs. Cottingham’s voice fell gratefully upon her ears: 

“ Daphne, Daphne, my dear, come and speak to 
Lady Heritage.—She’s wildly excited, as I told you— 
the natural enthusiasms of youth, dear Lady Heritage, 
so beautiful, so quickly lost; I’m sure you agree with 
me.—Daphne, Daphne, my dear.” 

Daphne came reluctantly and thrust a large hand 
at Lady Heritage without looking at her. Raymond 
looked at it for a moment, and, after a perceptible 
pause, just touched the finger-tips. Mrs. Cottingham 
never stopped talking. 

“ So it is your friend, and you’re just too excited 
for words. Take her away and have a good gossip. 
Lady Heritage and I have a great deal to talk about. 
—You were saying ...” 

“ I was saying,” said Lady Heritage wearily, “that 
you must write at once if you want Masterson to 
lecture for you next winter.” 

Daphne dragged Jane to the far end of the room. 

“Oh, Renata, how perfectly delicious! But how did 
you come here? And what are you doing, and where’s 
Arnold, and why aren’t you with him?” She made a 
pounce at Jane’s left hand, and felt the third finger. 

137 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Oh, where’s your ring?” she said. 

“ Hush!” said Jane. 

They reached a sofa and sank upon it. Imme¬ 
diately in front of them was an octagonal table of 
light-coloured wood profusely carved. Upon it, 
amongst lesser portraits, stood a tall photograph of 
Mrs. Cottingham in a train, and feathers, and a tiara. 
The sofa was low, and Jane felt that fate had been 
kinder than she deserved. 

“ Oh, Renata, aren’t you married?” breathed 
Daphne. 

She breathed very hard, and Jane was reminded of 
Arnold on the fire-escape. 

“ Oh, Renata, tell me! When she . . . Mrs. 
Cottingham said, 1 Miss Renata Molloy,’ I nearly died. 
I said, ‘ Miss Molloy?’ And she said, ‘ Yes, Miss 
Renata Molloy,’ and oh, I very nearly let the cat out 
of the bag.” She grasped Jane’s hand and pressed it 
violently. “But I didn’t. Arnold told me not to, 
and I didn’t, but, of course, I’m simply dying to know 
all about everything. Now, darling, tell me . . . 
tell me everything.” 

Never in her life had Jane felt so much aloof from 
any human creature. There was something so inex¬ 
pressibly comic in the idea of pouring out her heart 
to Daphne Todhunter that she did not even feel 
nervous, only aloof—aloof, and cool. She looked 
earnestly at Daphne, and said: 

“ What did Arnold tell you?” 

“ It was the greatest shock,” said Daphne, “ and 
such a surprise. One minute there he was, moving 
about at home, and not knowing when he would get 
a job, and perfectly distracted with hopelessness about 
138 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

you; and the next he rushed down to say good-bye 
because he was going to Bolivia, and his heart was 
broken because you wouldn’t go too. . . She 
stopped for breath, and squeezed Jane’s hand even 
harder than before. “ And then,” she continued, 
“ you can imagine what a shock it was to get the 
letter-card.” 

“ Yes,” said Jane, “it must have been. What did 
it say?” 

Daphne opened her eyes and her mouth. 

“ Didn’t he show it to you? How perfectly extra¬ 
ordinary of him!” 

“ Well, he didn’t” said Jane. “ What did he 
say?” 

“ I know it by heart,” said Daphne ardently. “ I 
could repeat every word.” 

“Well, for goodness’ sake do!” 

“ Renata! How odd you are, not a bit like your¬ 
self!” Fear stabbed Jane. 

“Tell me what he said—tell me what he said,” she 
repeated. 

With an effort she pressed the hand that was 
squeezing hers. 

“ What, Arnold, in the letter-card? But I think it 
was just too weird of him not to have shown it to you 
—too extraordinary.” 

Jane felt that she was becoming dazed. 

“ What did he say?” 

“ I know it all by heart. I could say it in my sleep. 
He said, 4 Just off; we sail together. We were married 
this morning, and I’m the happiest man in the world. 
Don’t tell any one at present. If you love me, not a 
word to a soul. Will write from Bolivia.— Arnold. 

139 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


P. S.—On no account tell Aunt Ethel.’ So you see why 
I nearly died when she said Miss Renata Molloy, for 
of course I thought you were in Bolivia with Arnold, 
and oh, Renata, where is he and what has happened? 
Tell me everything.” 

She flung her arms about Jane’s neck as she spoke 
and gave her a long, clinging kiss. Jane endured it 
under pressure of that, “ You are not a bit like your¬ 
self.” When she had borne it for as long as she could, 
she drew back. 

“ Listen,” she said. 

“ Tell me—tell me the worst—tell me everything. 
Where is Arnold?” 

“ Arnold is in Bolivia,” said Jane. 

“ And why aren’t you with him?” 

Jane produced a pocket-handkerchief. It was a 
very little one, but it sufficed. In her own mind Jane 
described it as local colour. 

“ We have parted,” she said, and dabbed her eyes. 

“ Renata! But you’re married to him!” 

“ No,” said Jane, quite truthfully. 

An inward thankfulness that she was not married to 
Arnold supported her. 

Daphne stared at her with bulging eyes. 

“ You’re not! But he said, 1 We were married this 
morning.’ I read it with my own eyes, and I could 
repeat it in my sleep. I know it by heart. ...” 

Jane checked her with a look that held so much 
mysterious meaning that the flood of words was 
actually stemmed. 

“ He didn’t marry me” said Jane, in a tense whisper. 
She looked straight into the boiled gooseberry eyes, 
and then covered her own. 

140 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ He didn’t marry you?” repeated Daphne, gasping. 

“ No,” said Jane, from behind the handkerchief. 

“ But he’s married?” 

“ Y—yes,” said Jane. 

“ Oh, Renata!” 

Miss Todhunter cast herself upon Jane’s neck and 
burst into tears. The impact was considerable and 
her weight no light one. 

“ Daphne, please—please—Lady Heritage is looking 
at us. Do sit up. I can’t tell you anything if you cry. 
There’s really nothing to cry about.” 

Daphne sat up again. She also produced a handker¬ 
chief, a very large one with “ Daphne ” embroidered 
across the corner in coral pink. A terrific blast of 
white rose emerged with the handkerchief. 

“ But he was so much in love with you,” she wailed. 
“ I don’t understand it. How could he marry any one 
else and break your heart!” 

“ My heart is not broken,” said Jane. 

“ Then it was your fault, and you’ve broken his, 
and he’s got married just to show he doesn’t care, 
like people do in books. I don’t believe you love him 
a bit.” 

Jane looked modestly at the carpet, which was of a 
lively shade of crimson. 

“ I’m afraid I don’t,” she said, in a very small 
voice. 

An unbecoming flush mounted to Daphne’s cheeks. 

“ I don’t know how you’ve got the face,” she said. 

Much to Jane’s relief, she withdrew from her to the 
farthest corner of the sofa, and then glared. 

“Poor Arnold! Aunt Ethel always did say you 
were sly. She always said she wouldn’t trust you a 
141 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


yard.” She paused, sniffed, and then added, in what 
was meant for a tone of great dignity: 

“And please, whom has Arnold married?” 

“ Her—her name is Jane, I believe,” said Jane, with 
a tremor. 

At this moment she became aware that Lady Heri¬ 
tage had risen to her feet. Mrs. Cottingham’s voice 
clamoured for attention. 

“Oh, Lady Heritage, not without your tea! It 
won’t be a moment. Indeed, I couldn’t dream of 
letting you go like this. Just a cup of tea, you know, 
so refreshing. Indeed, it would distress me to think of 
your facing that long drive without your tea.” 

Raymond stood perfectly still, her face weary and 
unresponsive. 

“ I am afraid my time is not my own,” she said, and 
crossed the room to where the two girls were sitting. 
They both rose, Daphne with a jerk that dislodged a 
photograph frame. 

“ I am afraid I must interrupt your talk,” said Lady 
Heritage. “Were you living school triumphs over 
again? I suppose you swept off all the prizes between 
you?” 

If there was irony in the indifferent voice, Miss Tod- 
hunter was unaware of it. She laughed rather loudly, 
and said: 

“ Renata never won a prize in her life.” 

“ Oh!” said Raymond, with a lift of the brows. “ I 
am surprised. I pictured her always at the head of 
her class, and winning everything.” 

Daphne laughed again. She was still angry. 

“ I’m afraid she’s been putting on side,” she said. 
“ Why, Miss Basing would have fainted with surprise 
142 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


if she had found Renata anywhere near the top of 
anything. Or me either, : ” she added, with reluctant 
honesty. 

“ Miss Molloy,” said Raymond, “ ask Mrs. Cot- 
tingham if she will let Lewis know that we are ready;” 
and as Jane moved away, she continued, “ I should 
have thought her languages now ...” 

Daphne’s mouth fell open. 

“ Oh, my goodness,” she said, “ she must have been 
piling it on. Why, her languages were rotten, abso¬ 
lutely rotten. Why, Mademoiselle said that I was 
enough to break her heart, but when it came to Renata 
it was just, 4 Mon dieu!’ the whole time; and then 
there were rows because Miss Basing thought it was 
profane. Only, somehow it seems different in French 
—don’t you think?” 

Lady Heritage looked at Daphne as though she had 
some difficulty in thinking about her at all. 

“ I see,” she said gravely, and then Mrs. Cottingham 
bore down upon them. 

“ Tea should have been ready if I had known,” she 
said. Her colour had risen, and her voice shook a 
little. “ If I could persuade you . . . I’m sure it 
won’t be more than a moment. But, of course, if you 
must . . . but if I had only known. You see, I 
thought to myself we would have our talk first, and 
then enjoy our tea comfortably, and indeed it is just 
coming in—but, of course, if you are obliged to go .. .” 

“ Thank you very much; I am obliged to go. Good¬ 
bye, Mrs. Cottingham. You’ll write to Masterson 
and let me know what the answer is? I think I hear 
the car.” 

Miss Todhunter, who had embraced her friend so 
143 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


warmly half an hour before, parted from her with a 
tepid handshake; but if neither Daphne nor Mrs. 
Cottingham considered the visit a success, Lady Heri¬ 
tage seemed to derive some satisfaction from it, and 
Jane told herself that not only had a danger been 
averted, but a distinct advantage had been gained. 


144 


CHAPTER XIV 


TANE ran straight up to her room when they got 
** back, but she was no sooner there than it came 
into her mind to wonder whether she had put away 
the files which she had been working on just before she 
went into the garden. Think as she would, she could 
not be sure. 

She ran down again and went quickly along the 
corridor to the library. The door was unlatched. 
She touched the handle, pushed it a little, and stood 
hesitating. Lady Heritage was speaking. 

“ It’s a satisfaction to know just where one is. 
Sometimes I’ve been convinced she was a fool, and 
then again . . . well, I’ve wondered. I wondered this 
afternoon in the garden. That man on the headland 
gives one to think furiously. Who on earth could it 
have been?” 

“ I . . . don’t . . . know.” 

“ But I don’t believe she saw him. I don’t believe 
she saw anything or knew why she was frightened. 
She just got a start ... a shock—began to run with¬ 
out knowing why, and ran herself into a blind panic. 
She looked quite idiotic when I was questioning her.” 

“ Oh,” thought Jane. “ It’s horrible to listen at 
doors, but what am I to do?” 

What she did was to go on listening. She heard 
Lady Heritage’s rare laugh. 

“ Then this afternoon—my dear Jeffrey, it would 
145 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


have convinced you or any one. The friend—this 
Daphne Todhunter—well, only a fool could have made 
a bosom friend of her, and, as I told you, even she 
had the lowest opinion of her adored Renata’s 
brains.” 

“ I don’t know,” said Ember again. “ You say she’s 
a fool, I say she’s a fool, her friend says she’s a fool, 
but something, some instinct in me protests.” 

“Womanly intuition,” said Lady Heritage, with a 
mocking note. 

There was silence; then: 

“ These girls—were they alone together?” 

“ No. They conducted what appeared to be a 
curiously emotional conversation at the other end of 
Mrs. Cottingham’s dreadful drawing-room, which 
always reminds me of a parish jumble sale.” 

Ember’s voice sounded suddenly much nearer, as if 
he had crossed the room. 

“ Emotional? What do you mean?” he said quickly. 
Lady Heritage laughed again. 

“ Mean?” she said. “ Does that sort of thing mean 
anything?” 

“ What sort of thing? Please, it’s important.” 

“ Oh, hand-holding, and a tearful embrace or two. 
The usual accompaniments of schoolgirl schwarmerei” 

Jane could hear that Ember was moving restlessly. 
Her own heart was beating. She knew very well that 
in Ember’s mind there was just one thought—“ Sup¬ 
pose she has told Daphne Todhunter.” 

“ Which of them cried?” said Ember sharply. 

“ I think they both did—Miss Todhunter most.” 

“ And you couldn’t hear what they were saying?” 

“ Not a word.” 


146 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ I must know. Will you send for her and find out? 
It’s of the first importance.” 

“ You think . . .” 

“ She may have told this girl what we’ve been trying 
to get out of her. I must know. Look here, I’ll take 
a book and sit down over there. She won’t notice 
me. Send for her and begin about other things, then 
ask her why her friend was so distressed. . . 

Jane heard Ember move again and knew that this 
time it was towards the bell. She turned and ran 
back along the way by which she had come. Five 
minutes later she was entering the library to find Lady 
Heritage at her table and Ember at the far end of 
the room buried in a book. 

“ I want the unanswered-letter file.” Lady Heritage’s 
voice was very businesslike. 

Jane brought it over and waited whilst Raymond 
turned over the letters, frowning. 

“ I don’t see Lady Manning’s letter.” 

“ You answered it yesterday.” 

“ So I did. Miss Molloy—why did your friend cry 
this afternoon?” 

“ Daphne?” 

“ Yes, Daphne. Why did she cry?” 

“ Oh, she does, you know.” 

“ But I suppose not entirely without some cause.” 

“ She was angry with me,” said Jane very low. 

11 Yes? I noticed that she did not kiss you when 
you went away.” 

“ No, she’s angry. You see”—Jane hung her 
head—“ you see, she thinks—I’m afraid she thinks 
that I didn’t treat her brother very well.” 

“ Her brother?” 


147 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Yes. She wanted me to be engaged to him, but 
he’s married some one else, so I think it’s rather silly 
of her to be cross with me, don’t you?” 

“ I really don’t know.” 

Out of the tail of her eye Jane saw Mr. Ember nod 
his head just perceptibly. Lady Heritage must have 
seen it too, for she pushed the letter file over to Jane. 

“ Put this away. No, I don’t want anything more 
at present.” 

Tea came in as she spoke. 

Afterwards in her own room Jane sat down on the 
broad window ledge with her hands in her lap, looking 
out over the sea. The lovely day was drawing slowly 
to a lovelier close, the sun-drenched air absolutely 
still, absolutely clear. The tide was low, the sea one 
sheet of unbroken blue, except where the black rocks, 
more visible than Jane had ever seen them, pierced 
the surface. 

Jane did not quite know what had happened to her. 
Her moment of exhilaration was gone. She was not 
afraid, but she felt a sense of horror which she had not 
known before. She had thought of this adventure 
as her adventure, her own risk. Somehow she had 
never really related it to other people. For the first 
time, she began to see Formula “ A,” not as something 
which threatened her, but as something that menaced 
the world. It was ridiculous that it was Mrs. Cotting- 
ham and Daphne Todhunter who had caused this 
change. 

It is one thing to think vaguely of civilisation being 
swept away, and quite another to visualise some con¬ 
crete, humdrum Tom, Dick, or Harry being swept 
horribly out of existence. Jane’s imagination suddenly 
148 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

showed her Formula “ A ”—The Process, whatever 
they chose to call the horrible thing—in operation; 
showed it annihilating fussy Mrs. Cottingham, with her 
overcrowded drawing-room and her overcrowded talk; 
showed it doing something horrible to fat, common 
Daphne Todhunter. The romance of adventure fell 
away, the glamour that sometimes surrounds catas¬ 
trophe shrivelled and was gone. It was horrible, only 
horrible. 

Jane kept seeing Mrs. Cottingham’s ugly room, and 
Raymond Heritage standing there, as she had seen her 
that afternoon, like a statue that had nothing to do 
with its surroundings. All at once she knew what 
it was that Lady Heritage reminded her of—not 
Mercury at all, but Medusa with the lovely, tortured 
face, stone and yet suffering. 

As she looked out over that calm sea she had before 
her all the time the vision of Medusa, and of hundreds 
and hundreds of quite ordinary, vulgar, commonplace 
Mrs. Cottinghams and Daphne Todhunters being 
turned to stone. A tremor began to shake her. It 
kept coming again and again. Then, all at once, the 
tears were running down her face. It was then it 
came to her that she could not bear to think of Daphne 
as she had seen her at the last, with that hurt, angry, 
puzzled look. 

“ She’s a fat lump, but Arnold is her brother, and 
Renata is her friend, and she thinks they’ve failed 
each other and been horrid to her. I can’t bear it.” 

At that moment Jane hated herself fiercely because 
Daphne’s tears had amused her. 

“ You’ve got a brick instead of a heart, and, if you 
get eliminated, it’ll serve you right.” 

149 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


She dabbed her eyes very hard, straightened her 
hair, and ran downstairs to the library again. 

Ember was the sole occupant, and Jane addressed 
him with diffidence: 

“ Mr. Ember, do you think I might ... do you 
think Lady Heritage would mind ... I mean, may I 
use the telephone?” 

“ What for?” said Ember, looking at her over the 
edge of his paper. 

“ I thought perhaps I might,” said Jane . . . “ I 
mean, I wanted to say something to my friend, the 
one who is staying with Mrs. Cottingham.” 

“ Ah—yes, why not?” 

“ Then I may?” 

“ Oh yes, certainly. Do you want me to go?” 

Jane presented a picture of modest confusion. It 
was concern for Daphne Todhunter that had brought 
her downstairs, concern and the prickings of remorse, 
but at the sight of Ember, she experienced what she 
would have described as a brain-wave. 

“ If you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “ I’m so sorry 
to disturb you, but I did rather want to talk privately 
to her.” 

“ Oh, by all means.” Ember’s tone was most 
amiable, his departure most courteously prompt. 

Jane would have been prepared to bet the eighteen- 
pence which constituted her sole worldly fortune to a 
brass farthing that upon the other side of the door his 
attentive ear would miss no word of her conversation. 

She gave Mrs. Cottingham’s number, and waited 
in some anxiety. 

The voice that said “ Hullo!” was unmistakably 
Miss Todhunter’s, and Jane began at once: 

150 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ Oh, Daphne, is that you? I want to speak to 
you so badly. Are you alone? Good! I’m so glad.” 

At the other end of the line Daphne was saying 
grumpily: 

“ I don’t know what you mean. There are three 
people in the room. I keep telling you so.” 

“ Good! ” said Jane, with a little more emphasis. “ I 
want to speak to you most particularly. I’ve been 
awfully unhappy since this afternoon; I really have. 

And I wanted to say-1 mean to ask you not to be 

upset about Arnold. It’s all for the best, really. 
Please, please, don’t think badly of him. It’s not his 
fault, and I know you’ll like his wife very much indeed. 
He’ll tell you all about it some day, and you’ll think 
it ever so romantic. So you won’t be unhappy about 
it, will you? I hate people to be unhappy.” 

Without waiting for Miss Todhunter’s reply, Jane 
hung up the receiver. After a decent interval she 
opened the door. Mr. Ember was at the far end of the 
passage, waiting patiently. 


151 



CHAPTER XV 


J ANE waked that night, and did not know why she 
waked. After a moment it came to her that 
she had been dreaming. In her dream something 
unpleasant had happened, and she did not know what 
it was. She sat up in the darkness with her hands 
pressed over her eyes, trying to remember. 

The vague feeling of having passed through some 
horrifying experience oppressed her far more than 
definite recollection could have done. 

She got up, switched on the light, and began to pace 
up and down, but she could not shake off that feeling 
of having left something, she did not know what, 
just behind her, just out of sight. She looked round 
for the book she had been reading, but she remembered 
now that she had left it downstairs. She looked at 
her watch. It was three o’clock. The house would 
be absolutely still and empty. It would not take her 
two minutes to fetch the book from the drawing-room. 
She slipped on Renata’s dressing-gown, put out her 
light, and opened the door. 

With a little shock of surprise she saw that the 
corridor was dark. Some one must have put out the 
light which always burned at the far end. Instead of 
the usual faintly rosy glow, there was darkness thin¬ 
ning to dusk, and just at the stairhead a vivid splash of 
moonlight. After a moment’s hesitation Jane slipped 
out of her room, leaving the door ajar. Somehow she 
152 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

had not reckoned upon having to cross that brightly 
lighted space. She came slowly to the head of the 
stairs and looked down into the hall. It was like 
looking into the blackness and silence of a vast well. 
She could see nothing—nothing at all. The moon was 
shining in through the rose window above the great 
door. There was a shield in the window, a shield with 
the Luttrell arms, and the light came through the glass 
in a great beam shot with colour, and struck the 
portrait of Lady Heritage and the vine leaves and 
grapes on the newel just below. The window and the 
portrait were on the same level, and the ray seemed to 
make a brilliant cleavage between the silvery dusk 
above and the dense gloom below. 

Jane descended the stairs, walking carefully so as to 
make no noise. At the foot she turned sharply to the 
left and passed the study door, the fireplace, and the 
steel gate which shut off the north wing. The door of 
the Yellow Drawing-Room was straight in front of her. 
She opened it softly and went in. 

The book would be on the little table to the right 
of the fireplace, because she remembered putting it 
there when Lady Heritage made an unexpectedly 
early move. She stood for a moment visualising the 
arrangement of the chairs, and then walked straight 
to the right place. The book was where she had left 
it, put down open, a bad habit for which Jimmy had 
often rebuked her. She was back at the door with it, 
and just about to pass the threshold when she heard 
a sound. Instantly she stood still, listening. The 
sound came from the other end of the hall, where 
the shadows lay deepest round the massive oak 
door. 


153 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ But there can’t be any one at the door at this 
hour/’ said Jane—“ there can’t, there can’t possibly.” 

The sound came again, something between a rustle 
and a creak, but so faint that no hearing less acute 
than Jane’s would have caught it. 

“ It’s on the left of the door, underneath Willoughby 
Luttrell’s picture. . . 

Jane suddenly pressed her hand to her lips and made 
an involuntary movement backwards, for there was an 
unmistakable click, and then, slow and faint, a foot¬ 
fall. Jane stood rigid, staring into the darkness of the 
corner. She thought she heard a sigh, and then the 
footsteps crossed the hall, coming nearer. At the 
stair foot they paused, and then began to ascend. 

Jane gazed into the deeply shadowed space where 
the footfall sounded, but nothing—not the slightest 
glimpse of anything moving—came to her straining 
sight. 

She looked up and saw the level ray of moonlight 
overhead. Whoever climbed the stair must pass up 
into the light and be visible, but from where she stood 
she could only see the side of the stair like a black wall. 
But she must see—she must. If some one had come 
out of the darkness where there was no door she must 
know who it was. Her bare feet made no sound as she 
moved from the sheltering doorway. Step by step 
she kept pace with those slow mounting footsteps. 
She passed the steel gate, and, feeling her way along 
the wall, came to a standstill by the cold black hearth. 
Then, with her whole body tense, she turned and 
looked up. There was a darker shadow among the 
shadows, a shadow that moved upwards, towards the 
beam of moonlight. Jane watched, breathless, and 
154 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

from where The Portrait hung, the sombre eyes of 
Raymond Heritage seemed to watch too. Out of 
blackness into dusk a something emerged; one step 
more and the moonlight fell on a dark hood. Up into 
the light came a cloaked figure, draped from head to 
foot, shapeless. 

On the top step it turned. Jane caught her breath. 
It was Lady Heritage. She stood there for a long 
minute, her left hand just resting on the newel post 
with its twining tendrils and massive overhanging 
grapes. The light shone full upon her, and her face 
was sharpened, blanched, and sorrowful. Her eyes 
seemed to look into unfathomable depths of gloom. 
The amber, the rose, and the violet of the stained glass 
fell in a hazy iridescence upon the black of her cloak. 

In front the cloak fell away and showed the straight 
white linen of an overall, and cloak and overall were 
deeply stained with dull wet smears. A piece of the 
stuff hung jagged from a tear. 

Jane looked, and could not take her eyes away. 

“ Oh, she’s so unhappy,” she said to herself. 

With a quick movement Raymond Heritage pushed 
the hood back from her hair. Then she turned, faced 
her own portrait for a moment, and passed slowly 
out of sight. Jane heard a door close very softly. 

She stood quite still and waited, gathering her 
courage. She would have to mount the stair and pass 
through that light before she could reach the safely 
shadowed corridor. Just for a moment it seemed as 
if she could not do it. Her feet seemed to cleave to 
the ground. Five minutes passed, and another 
five. 

Jane felt herself becoming rigid, and with a tremend- 
155 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


ous effort, she took one step forward, but only one, 
for as her foot touched a new cold patch of floor, 
some one moved overhead. 

For an instant a little pencil of electric light jabbed 
into the darkness and went out again. The next 
moment Mr. Ember stepped into the moonlight. He 
too wore a linen overall, and in his left hand he carried 
the mask-like head-dress which was in use in the lab¬ 
oratories. His right hand held a torch. 

He came down the stairs, walking with astonishing 
lightness. Half-way down the torch came into play 
again. He sent the little ray in a sort of dazzle-dance 
about the hall. With every leaping flash Jane’s heart 
gave a jump, and she only stopped her teeth from 
chattering by biting hard upon the cuff of Renata’s 
dressing-gown. She had covered her face instinctively, 
and peered, terror-stricken, between her fingers. 

The light skimmed right across her once, and but for 
the crimson flannel, she would certainly have screamed 
aloud. If Mr. Ember had been looking, he could have 
seen a semicircle of white forehead, two clutching 
hands, and a quivering chin. But his eyes were else¬ 
where, and the dancing flash passed on. 

Ember crossed the hall to the far corner out of which 
Lady Heritage had come. Suddenly the light went 
out. 

Jane heard again the very, very small creaking noise 
which she had heard before. It was followed by a 
faint click, and then unmitigated silence. The seconds 
added themselves together and became minutes, and 
there was no further sound. The minutes passed, and 
the beam of moonlight slipped slowly downwards. 
Now The Portrait was in darkness, now the newels 
156 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


were just two black shadows. It was a long, long time 
before Jane moved. She climbed the staircase with 
terror in her heart. At the edge of the moonlight she 
waited so long that it moved to meet her. When the 
edge of it touched her bare, hesitating foot she gave a 
violent start, and ran the rest of the way. 

The dark corridor felt like a haven of refuge. 

She came panting to her own door, and suddenly 
there was no haven of refuge anywhere. The door 
was shut. She had left it aj^,r. It was shut. 

Jane stood with her outstretched hand flat on the 
panel of the door. She kept saying over and over to 
herself: 

“ I left it open, but it’s shut. I left it open, but 
it’s shut.” 

Once she pushed the door as if it could not really 
be shut at all, but it did not yield; the latch had caught. 
It was shut. At last she turned the handle slowly 
and went in. A gust of wind met her full. Perhaps 
it was the wind that had shut the door. She left it 
ajar, moved to the middle of the room, and waited. 
For a moment there was a lull. Somewhere in the 
house a clock struck four. The sound came just 
over the edge of hearing, with its four tiny distant 
strokes. Then the wind rushed in again through the 
open window, and the door fell to with a click. 


157 


CHAPTER XVI 


B Y next morning the wind had brought rain 
with it. A south-west gale drove against the 
dripping window-panes, and covered the sea with 
crests of foam. 

Jane, rather pale, wrote a neat letter to the Misses 
Kent, Hermione Street, South Kensington, mention¬ 
ing that she would be much obliged if they would send 
her patterns of jumper wool by return. She hesitated, 
and then underlined the last two words. 

“ I always think big shops do you better,” was Lady 
Heritage’s comment, and Mr. Ember added, “ Do 
you knit, Miss Renata? I thought you were the only 
girl in England who didn’t ”—to which Jane replied, 
“ I want to learn.” 

It was after the letter had been posted that she 
found Henry’s second message, “ Hope to see you 
to-day, Friday.” She could have cried for pure 
joy. 

At intervals during the day, the thought occurred 
to her that Henry was a solid comfort. She wasn’t 
in love with him, of course, but undoubtedly he was a 
comfort. She had plenty of time to think, for she 
spent the entire day by herself. Sir William had gone 
to town for three or four days. Lady Heritage dis¬ 
appeared into the north wing at eleven o’clock, and 
very shortly after, Mr. Ember followed her. Neither 
of them appeared again until dinner-time. Jane went 
158 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

to sleep over a book and awoke refreshed, and with a 
strong desire for exploration. 

If only last night’s mysterious happenings had taken 
place anywhere but in the hall. The dark corner 
from which Raymond had emerged and into which 
Mr. Ember had vanished drew her like a magnet, 
but not until every one was in bed and asleep would 
she dare to search for the hidden door. 

“ If I were just sitting here and reading,” she 
thought to herself, “ probably no one would come 
into the hall for hours; but if I were to look for a 
secret passage, all the servants would begin to drift 
in and out, and the entire neighbourhood would come 
and call.” 

When the lights had been turned on, she wandered 
round, looking at the Luttrell portraits. This, she 
thought, was safe enough, and if not the rose, it was 
at least near it. Willoughby LuttrelPs picture hung 
perhaps five feet from the ground and about half-way 
between the hall door and the corner. Jane had 
always noticed it particularly because Henry undoubt¬ 
edly resembled this eighteenth century uncle. 

Mr. Willoughby Luttrell had been painted in a 
Court suit of silver-grey satin. He wore Mechlin 
ruffles and diamond shoe-buckles. He had the air 
of being convinced that the Court of St. James could 
boast no brighter ornament, but his face was the face 
of Henry March, and Henry’s grey eyes looked down 
at Jane from beneath a Ramillies wig. 

After an interval Jane stopped looking at Mr. 
Luttrell’s eyes, and reflected that the click which she 
had heard the night before came from a point nearer 
the corner. She did not dare go near enough to feel 
159 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the wall, and no amount of staring at the panelling 
disclosed any clue to the secret. 

Jane went back to her book. 

By sunset the rain had ceased to fall, or, rather to 
be driven against the land. The wind, lightened of its 
burden of moisture, kept coming inland in great gusts, 
fresh and soft with the freshness and softness of the 
spring. The entire sky was thickly covered with 
clouds which moved continually across its face, swept 
on by the currents of the upper air, but these clouds 
were very high up. Any one coming out of an enclosed 
place into the windy night would have received 
an impression of extraordinary freedom, movement, 
and space. 

Henry March received such an impression as he 
turned a pivoting stone block and came out of the 
small sheltering cave behind the seat on the headland 
above Luttrell Marches. At the first buffet of the 
gale he took off his cap, and stuffed it down into the 
pocket of the light ulster which he wore, and stood 
bareheaded, looking out to sea. His eyes showed him 
blackness and confused motion, and his ears were 
filled with the strange singing sound of the wind and 
the endless crash and recoil of the waves against a 
shingly beach. 

He stood quite still for a time and then turned his 
wrist and glanced at the luminous dial of the watch 
upon it, after which he passed again behind the stone 
seat and was about to re-enter the blacker shadows 
when a tall figure emerged. 

“ Have you been here long?” said a voice. 

“ No, I’ve only just come. How are you, Tony?” 

“ All right. I didn’t think you’d be down here 
160 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

again so soon. It was touch and go whether I could 
get here.” 

“ Piggy’s orders,” said Henry. “ Look here, Tony, 
don’t let’s go inside. It’s a topping night, and that 
passage I’ve just come along smells like a triple extract 
of vaults—perfectly beastly. I don’t suppose our 
friend Ember is addicted to being out late. He doesn’t 
strike me as that sort of bird somehow.” 

“ All right,” said Anthony Luttrell. He sat down 
on the stone seat as he spoke, and Henry followed his 
example. 

“ Piggy sent you down, did he? What for?” 

Henry was silent. It seemed like quite a long time 
before he said: 

“ Tony, who knows about the passages beside you 
and me?” 

“ No one,” said Anthony shortly. 

“ Uncle James told me when he thought the Boche 
had done you in. He said then that no one knew 
except he and I. He drew out a plan of all the 
passages and made me learn it by heart. When I 
could draw it with my eyes shut, we burnt every 
scrap of paper I had touched. I’ve been into the 
passages exactly three times—once that same week 
to test my knowledge, again the other day, and 
tonight. I’ll swear no one saw me go in or come out, 
and I’ll swear I’ve never breathed a word to a 
soul.” 

“ Are you rehearsing your autobiography?” inquired 
Anthony Luttrell, with more than a hint of sar¬ 
casm. 

“ No, I’m not. I want to know who else knows 
about the passages.” 


161 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ And I have told you.” 

“ Tony, it is no good. I had my suspicions the other 
night, but to-night Fve got proof. The passages have 
been made use of. Unfortunately there’s no doubt 
about it at all. I want to know whether you have 
any idea—hang it all, Tony, you must see what I’m 
driving at! Wait a minute; don’t go through the 
roof until you’ve heard what I’ve got to say. You 
see, I know that Uncle James gave you the plan when 
you were only sixteen, because he thought he was 
dying then, and I’ve come down here to ask you 
whether any one might have seen you coming and 
going as a boy, or whether . . . Tony, did you ever 
tell any one?” 

“I thought you said that it was Piggy’s orders 
that brought you down here.” 

“ Yes, it was,” said Henry. 

“ Am I to gather then that Piggy has suggested 
these damned impertinent questions?” Mr. Luttrell’s 
tone was easy to a degree. 

Henry, on the verge of losing his temper, rose 
abruptly to his feet, walked half a dozen paces with 
his hands shoved well down in his pockets, and then 
walked back again. 

“ Tony, what on earth’s the good of quarrelling?” 

Anthony Luttrell was leaning back, his head against 
the back of the stone seat, his long legs stretched out in 
front of him. He appeared to be watching the race 
of clouds between the horizon and the zenith. He 
said something, and the wind took his words away. 

Henry sat down again. 

“ Look here, Tony,” he said, “ you’ve not an¬ 
swered my question. Did you ever tell any one? 

162 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Damn it all, Tony, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to! 
. . . Did you ever tell Raymond?” 

A great gust swept the headland, another and more 
violent one followed it, battered against the cliff, and 
then dropped suddenly into what, after the tumult, 
seemed like a silence. 

“ Piggy speaking, or you?” said Anthony Luttrell 
quite lightly. 

“ Both,” said Henry. 

“ You sound heated, Henry. Now I should have 
thought that that would have been my role. Instead, 
I merely repeat to you, and you in your turn, of course, 
repeat to Piggy that I have told no one about the 
passages, and, after you have admired my modera¬ 
tion, perhaps we might change the subject.” 

“ I’m afraid it can’t be done,” said Henry. “ Tony, 
do you mind sitting up and looking at this?” 

As he spoke he placed “ this ” on the seat between 
them and turned a light upon it, holding the torch 
close down on to the seat so that the beam did not 
travel beyond its edge. Mr. Luttrell turned lazily 
and saw a small handkerchief of very fine linen with 
an embroidered “ R ” in the corner. He continued to 
look at it, and Henry continued to hold the torch so 
that the light fell upon the initial. Then quite suddenly 
Anthony Luttrell reached sideways and switched off 
the light. His hand dropped to the handkerchief and 
covered it. 

“ No, I don’t want it,” said Henry, “ but I thought 
you ought to know that I found it in the passage behind 
us, just where one stoops to shift the stone.” 

“ It’s one I found and dropped,” said Anthony, 
putting it into his pocket. 

163 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Henry said nothing at all. 

A somewhat prolonged silence was broken by 
Luttrell. “ I’m chucking my job here,” he said. 
“ I’ve written to Sir Julian. Here’s the letter for you 
to give him.” He pushed it along the seat as he 
spoke, and Henry picked it up reluctantly. “ I’ve 
asked to be replaced with as little delay as possible. 
You might urge that point on him, if you don’t mind. 
I want it made perfectly clear that under no circum¬ 
stances will I stay on more than three days. I will, 
in fact, see the whole department damned first.” 

He spoke without the slightest heat, in the rather 
cold, drawling manner which Henry had known as a 
danger-signal from the days when he was a small boy, 
and Anthony a big one and his idol. 

“Are you giving any reason?” 

“ No, there’s no reason to give.” 

“ Piggy,” said Henry thoughtfully, “ will want 
one. It’s all very well for you, Tony, to write him a 
letter and say you’re going to chuck your job without 
giving a reason. I’ve got to stand up at the other 
side of his table and stick out a cross-examination 
on the probable nature of the reasons which you 
haven’t given. You’re putting me in an impossible 
position.” 

“ It’s that damned conscience of yours, I suppose! 
I cannot tell a lie, and all that sort of thing.” 

“ Not to Piggy about this.” 

“All right,” said Anthony, getting to his feet, 
“ tell him the truth. Why should I care? I suppose, 
in common with everybody else, he is perfectly well 
aware that I once made a fool of myself about Lady 
Heritage. Well, I thought I could stick being down 
164 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


here and seeing her, but I can’t. It just comes to 
that. I can’t stick it.” 

“ Does she know you’re here?” 

“ No, she doesn’t. She sees me in an overall and a 
mask. She has been pleased to commend my skill. 
This afternoon she leaned over my shoulder to watch 
what I was doing. Well, I came away and wrote to 
Piggy. I can’t stand it, and you can tell him so with 
the utmost circumstance.” 

Henry was leaning forward, chin in hand. He looked 
past Anthony at the black moving water. 

“Why don’t you see Raymond?” he said. “No, 
Tony, you’ve just got to listen to me. What you’ve 
been saying is true as far as it goes, but it doesn’t 
go very far. You wouldn’t chuck your job just for 
that. You know, and I know that you’re chucking 
it because you are afraid that Raymond is involved. 
If you know it, and I know it, don’t you think Piggy 
will know it too? That’s why I say, see Raymond. 
If she’s let herself get mixed up with this show, it’s 
because she’s had a rotten time and wants to hit back. 
She said as much to me—oh, not a propos of this, of 
course; we were just talking.” 

“ I heard her,” said Anthony Luttrell. He paused, 
and added with a distinct sneer, “You displayed an 
admirable discretion.” 

“ Thank you, Tony. Now what’s the good of you 
clearing out? If you do, Piggy will send some one 
else down here, and if Raymond has got mixed up 
with any of Ember’s devilry, she’ll get caught out. 
For the Lord’s sake, Tony, see her, let her know you’re 
alive! I believe she’d chuck the whole thing and go 
to the ends of the earth with you. Nobody would 
165 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


press the matter. We should catch Ember out, and 
you and Raymond could go abroad for a bit. I don’t 
see any other way out of it.” 

“ You seem to me to be assuming a good deal, 
Henry,” said Anthony Luttrell. 

“ I’m not assuming anything ”—Henry’s tone was 
very blunt. “ I know three things.” 

“ Yes?” 

“ One ”—Henry ticked his facts off on the fingers of 
his left hand: “ the passages are being used. Two: 
they’ve been wired for electric light. Three: Raymond 
has been through them, and quite lately. Those 
three facts, taken in conjunction with a deposition 
stating that something of a highly dangerous and 
anti-social nature is being manufactured on these 
premises, and under cover of the Government experi¬ 
ments—well, Tony, I don’t suppose you want me to 
dot the ‘ i’s ’ and cross the 4 t’s.’ ” 

“ It never occurred to you that my father might 
have had the place wired, I suppose?” 

“ He didn’t,” said Henry. “ It’s no good, Tony. 
You can’t bluff me, and I hate your trying to. 
There’s only one way out of this. You’ve got to see 
Raymond.” 

Anthony made an impatient movement. 

“ You assume too much,” he said, “ but I’ll put 
that on one side. From the cold, official standpoint, 
where does my interview with Lady Heritage come 
in? Wouldn’t it rather complicate matters? You 
appear to assume that there is a conspiracy, and then 
to suggest that I should warn one of the conspirators.” 

“ No, I do not. I ask you to let Raymond know 
that you are alive, nothing more. In my view nothing 
166 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

more is necessary. She’ll naturally think you are here 
to see her, and you can let her think so. As to the 
cold, official standpoint, the last thing that the depart¬ 
ment would want is a scandal about a woman in 
Raymond’s position. Piggy would say what I say— 
for the Lord’s sake get her out of it and let us have a 
free hand. She’s an appalling complication.” 

“ Women always are,” said Anthony Luttrell in 
his bitter drawl. 

He moved a pace or two away, and then turned back 
again. “ You’re not a bad sort in spite of the con¬ 
science, Henry,” he said. “ From your standpoint, 
what you’ve just said is sense—good, plain common 
sense—in fact, exactly the thing which one has no 
use for in certain moods.” 

“ Scrap the moods, Tony,” said Henry, in an expres¬ 
sionless voice. 

Anthony laughed, rather harshly. 

“ My good Henry,” he said—there was affection 
as well as mockery in his tone—“ does one ask for 
one’s temperament? Look here, I haven’t seen 
Raymond because I haven’t dared—I don’t know what 
I might do or say if I did see her. Now that is the 
plain, unvarnished truth. When I was in Petrograd 
I once hid for three days in a cellar with a tempera¬ 
mental Russian lady. There was nothing to do except 
to talk, and we talked endlessly. She told me a lot 
of home truths—said my nature was like a glacier, cold 
and slow, and that once I had got going I had to go on, 
even if I ground all my own dearest hopes to powder 
in doing so.” 

“ In other words, if you’ve got a grouch, you’re a 
devil to keep it,” said Henry. “ It’s quite true; you 
167 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

always were. But, look here, Tony, why all this to 
my address? Why not get it off your chest to 
Raymond, and if you will deal in geological parallels, 
well—she’s rather in the volcano line, or used to be, 
and I don’t mind betting she’ll blow your glacier to 
smithereens?” Henry looked at his watch. 

“ I must go,” he said. “ Think it over, Tony, and 
same place, to-morrow, same time.” 

He turned, without waiting for an answer, and 
walked into the darkness of the cave. 


168 


CHAPTER XVII 


J ANE went to her room that night, but she did 
not undress. Two entirely opposite lines of rea¬ 
soning had ended in inducing one and the same 
decision. On the one hand, it might be argued that 
Lady Heritage and Mr. Ember, having passed the 
greater part of last night abroad upon their mysterious 
business, would be most unlikely to spend a second 
sleepless night so soon, and Jane might, therefore, 
count on finding the coast clear for a little exploring 
on her own account. On the other hand, an equally 
logical train of thought suggested that these midnight 
comings and goings might be part of a routine, and 
that Jane, if on the watch, might acquire some very 
valuable information. 

She therefore locked her door and proceeded to 
consider the question of what she should wear with 
as much attention as if she had been going to a 
ball. Neither barefoot nor with only stockings would 
she go into any passage which had left those un¬ 
pleasant dark stains upon Lady Heritage’s overall. 
A really heartfelt shudder passed over her at the 
very idea. No, Renata possessed slippers of maroon 
felt. Misguided talent had stenciled upon the toe of 
one a Dutch boy in full trousers, and upon the toe 
of the other a Dutch girl in full petticoats. Jane 
had a fierce loathing for the slippers, but they had 
cork soles and would at once keep out the damp 
169 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


and be very silent. She therefore placed them in 
readiness. 

Prolonged hesitation between the claims of the 
crimson flannel dressing-gown and an aged blue 
serge dress resulted in a final selection of the latter. 
She decided that it would flap less, and that if it got 
stained and damp the housemaids would be less likely 
to notice it. 

“ Of course, on the other hand,” said Jane to herself, 
“ if Fm caught, it absolutely does in any excuse about 
walking in my sleep, but I don’t think that’s an 
earthly, anyhow. If I’m caught, they’ll jolly well 
know what I was doing. The thing is not to be 
caught.” 

At half-past eleven precisely she made her way down 
to the hall. 

To-night there was no patch of moonlight to pass 
through, only a vague greyness which showed that the 
moon had risen and that the clouds outside were thin 
enough to let some of the light filter through. 

Jane felt her way downstairs and across the hall to 
Sir William’s study. The study door afforded the near¬ 
est point from which she could watch what she called 
Willoughby Luttrell’s corner without exposing herself 
to detection. 

She made up her mind that she would wait until she 
heard twelve strike, and then explore the corner. She 
had so thoroughly planned a period of waiting that it 
was with a feeling of shocked surprise that she became 
aware, even as she reached and crossed the threshold 
of the study, that some one was coming down the stairs 
behind her. 

If she had been one moment later, if she had stayed, 
170 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


as she very nearly did stay, to look out of the window 
and see whether the night was fair, they would have 
walked into one another at the top of the stairs. As 
it was, she had escaped by the very narrowest margin. 

The door opened inwards, and she had just time to 
get behind it and close all but a crack, when through 
that crack she saw Raymond Heritage pass, wrapped 
in the same black cloak which she had worn the night 
before, only this time she wore beneath it, not her linen 
overall, but the dress she had worn for dinner. She 
held an electric lamp in her left hand. 

As soon as she had passed the door, Jane opened it a 
little wider and came forward a step. 

Lady Heritage went straight to the corner of the 
hall. She put the torch down upon a chair which stood 
immediately under Willoughby LuttrelFs portrait. 
Then she went quite close to the wall and reached up, 
with her arms stretched out widely. Her right hand 
touched the bottom left-hand corner of the portrait 
and her left rested in the angle of the corner. 

Jane heard the same click which she had heard the 
night before. 

Lady Heritage stepped back, took up her light, and, 
going to the corner, pushed hard against the wall. 

Jane watched with all her eyes, and saw a section of 
the panelling turn on some unseen pivot, leaving a 
narrow door through which Raymond passed. For a 
moment she stared at the lighter oblong in the wall; 
then there was a second click and the unbroken shadow 
once again. 

Tingling with excitement, Jane stepped from her 
doorway and came to the corner. She must, oh she 
must, find the spring, and find it in time to follow. 

171 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Raymond stood here and reached up, bu^she was tall, 
much taller than Jane. She stood on her tiptoes and 
could not reach the lowest edge of the portrait. 

With the very greatest of care she moved the chair 
that was under the picture a yard or two to the left. 
It weighed as though it were made of lead instead of 
oak, and she was gasping as she set it down, but she 
had made no noise. Renata’s cork soles slipped as 
she climbed on to the polished seat, but she gripped the 
solid back and did not fall. 

Raymond had pressed something in the wall with 
both hands at once. Jane began to feel carefully 
along the lower edge of the portrait until she came to 
the massively foliated corner with its fat gilt acanthus 
leaves. A cross-piece of the panelling came just on the 
same level. She felt along it with light, sensitive finger¬ 
tips. There was a knot in the wood, but nothing else. 
“ If there is another knot in the corner, I’ll try pressing 
on them,” she thought to herself, and on the instant 
her left hand found the second knot. She pressed with 
all her might, and for the third time that evening she 
heard the little scarcely audible click. This time it 
spelt victory. 

In a curiously methodical manner Jane got down, 
put the chair carefully back into its place, and pushed 
against the wall as she had seen Lady Heritage do. 
The panelling yielded to her hand and swung inwards. 

There was a black gap in the corner. Jane passed 
through it without any hesitation, and pulled the panel¬ 
ling to. She meant to leave it just ajar, but her hand 
must have shaken, or else there was some controlling 
spring, for as she stood in the black dark she heard the 
click again. She drew a long breath and stood motion- 
172 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


less for a moment, but only for a moment. She had 
come there to follow Raymond Heritage, and follow 
her she would. 

She put out a cautious foot and it went down, so far 
down that for a sickening instant she thought that she 
must overbalance and fall headlong; then, just in 
time, it touched a step, the first of ten which went 
down very steeply. At the bottom she felt her way 
round a corner, and then with intensest thankfulness 
she saw, a good way ahead, a moving figure with a 
light. 

The passage that stretched before her was about six 
feet high and four feet wide. The air felt very damp 
and heavy. At intervals there were openings on the 
left-hand side where other passages seemed to branch 
off. Jane began to have a growing horror of these other 
passages. If she lost Lady Heritage, how would she 
ever find her way back, and—yet more horrid thought 
—who, or what, might at any moment come out of one 
of those dark tunnels behind her? It was at this 
point that she began to run, only to check herself 
severely. “ She’ll hear you, you fool. Jane, I abso¬ 
lutely forbid you to be such a fool; and Renata’s 
slippers will come off if you run, nasty sloppy things, 
and then you’ll tread in green slime, and get it between 
all your toes. It will squelch” The horror of the 
black passages was eclipsed; Jane stopped running 
obediently, but she took longer steps and diminished 
the distance between herself and her unconscious guide. 

The passage had begun to run uphill. Jane 
wondered where they were going. At any moment 
Lady Heritage might turn. If she did so, Jane must 
infallibly be caught unless she were near enough to 
173 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


one of the side tunnels. She went on with her heart 
in her mouth. 

A line from one of Christina Rossetti’s poems came 
into her head: 

“ Does the road wind uphill all the way? 

Yes, to the very end.” 

“ The sort of cheery thing one would remember,” 
thought Jane to herself; and she continued to climb 
the endless slope, her eyes fixed on the dark, moving 
silhouette of Lady Heritage. 

At last there was a pause. The light ceased to 
move. Jane crept closer, but dared not come too 
near. Next moment she saw what looked like a slab 
of stone in the passage wall swing round on a pivot as 
the panelling had done. Lady Heritage passed out 
of sight through the opening, and at the same moment 
a great breath of wind from the sea drove into the 
passage, clear, fresh, exquisite. 

Jane hurried to the opening and looked out. She 
saw first the dark, curving walls of a small cave, and, 
immediately in front of her, the black outline of a 
bench, beyond that a stretch of uneven ground, a 
tangle of wire, and the black movement of the sea. 
The moon behind the clouds made a vague, dusky 
twilight, and the wind blew. Lady Heritage was 
standing just on the other side of the stone seat. It 
startled Jane to find that she was so near. She stood 
quite still looking at the shadowed water and the 
cloudy sky. 

Then, without any warning, a tall, dark figure came 
into sight. To Jane it seemed as if it rose out of the 
ground. Afterwards she thought that, if any one 
174 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

had been sitting on the grass and then had risen, it 
would, of course, have looked like that. At the time 
she leaned against the rock for support and had much 
ado not to scream. 

It was Lady Heritage who called out, with an inar¬ 
ticulate cry that mingled with the wind and was 
carried away. 

The dark figure stood still just where it had so 
suddenly appeared, and in an instant Raymond had 
turned her light upon it. In the circle of light Jane 
saw a man—a tall man, bareheaded. He had thrown 
up his arm as if to screen his face, but it only hid the 
mouth and chin. Over it his eyes looked straight 
at Raymond Heritage. 

And Raymond gave a great cry of “ Anthony!” 
The light dropped from her hand, fell with a crash on 
the stones, rolled over, and went out. Anthony 
Luttrell did not stir, but Raymond began to move 
towards him after a strange rigid fashion, and as she 
moved, she kept saying his name over and over: 

“ Tony—Tony—Tony—Tony.” 

Her voice fell lower and lower. As she reached 
him it was nearly gone. 

Jane turned from the stone wall where she was 
leaning, and stumbled back along the dark passage 
with the tears running down her face. 

At that last whisper of his name, Anthony spoke: 

“ I’m not a ghost, Raymond. Did you think I was?” 

They were so close together that if she had stretched 
out those groping hands another inch they would have 
touched him. Something in his tone set a barrier 
between them and Raymond’s hands fell empty. 
The world was whirling round her. Life and death, 
175 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


love and hate, their parting and this meeting were 
merged in a confusion that robbed her of thought 
and almost of consciousness. It seemed to her as if 
they had been standing there for a long, long time, 
or, rather, as if time had nothing to do with them, and 
they had been cast into a strange eternity. Out of 
the turmoil of her thought arose the remembrance of 
the last time she and Anthony had trysted in this 
place—a sky almost unbearably blue and the sea 
brilliant under the noonday sun. Now there was no 
light anywhere. 

Anthony was alive. That should have been joy 
unbelievable. All through the years since she had 
read his name in the list of missing with what an over¬ 
whelming surge of joy would her heart have lifted to 
the words, “ Anthony is alive.” Now she said them to 
herself and felt only a deeper, more terrible sense of 
separation than any that had touched her yet. They 
stood together, and between them there was a gulf 
unpassable—and no light anywhere. 

Raymond moved very slowly back along the way 
that she had come. She came to the stone seat, 
caught at the back of it with a hand that suddenly 
began to shake, and sat down. A few slow moments 
passed. Then she bent and began to grope for the 
torch which she had dropped. 

Anthony came towards her. 

“ What is it?” he said, and she answered him in a 
low, fluttering voice: 

“ My light—I dropped—it's so dark—I want the 
light.” 

The strong, capable hand groping without aim stirred 
something in Anthony. He said, almost roughly: 

176 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ I’ll find it.” 

Then a moment later he had picked it up, found it 
intact save for a crack in the glass, and, switching it 
on, put it down on the seat beside her. 

He was not prepared for her immediately flashing 
the light on to his face. An exclamation broke from 
him, and to cover it he said: 

“ I am changed out of knowledge.” 

“ Changed—yes—Tony, that scar.” 

Her voice trembled away into silence. Her hand 
fell. The dusk was between them. 

“ Ugly, isn’t it? But I haven’t the monopoly of 
change, have I? You, I think, have changed also.” 

“ Yes.” 

With an impulse she hardly understood, she raised 
the light and turned it until her face and her bare 
throat were brilliantly illuminated. The dark cloak 
fell away a little. The dark eyes looked at him with 
defiance and appeal. Her beauty, seen like that, had 
something that startled; it was so devoid of life and 
colour, and yet so great! After a long, breathless 
minute Anthony said in his slow voice: 

“ You have changed more than I have, Lady 
Heritage, for you have changed your name.” 

He saw the last vestige of colour leave her face. 
She put the lamp down, and her silence startled 
him. 

“ No one would have known me,” he said after a 
pause that was all strain. 

“ I knew you,” said Raymond very low. 

“ Only because the lower part of my face was hid¬ 
den. You’d have passed me in daylight. You have 
passed me.” 


177 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

She winced at that, turned the light full on to him 
again, and said: 

“ You are working in the laboratory—that’s—that’s 
why . . She broke off for a minute and went on with 
a sort of violence, “ You say that I didn’t know you, 
but I did—I did. All this week I’ve been tormented 
with your presence. All this week I’ve felt you just 
at hand, just out of reach. I kept saying to myself, 
‘ Tony’s dead,’ and expecting to meet you round 
every corner. It was driving me mad.” 

“ It sounds most uncomfortable,” said Anthony 
dryly. 

Raymond saw a mocking look pass over his face. 
She turned the light away and set it down. If she had 
not felt physically incapable of rising to her feet, she 
would have left him then. This was not Anthony at 
all, only the anger, the bitterness, the cold resentment 
which she had hated in him. These, not Anthony, had 
come back from the grave. 

He was speaking again: 

“ Perhaps I shouldn’t ask, but . . . are you expect¬ 
ing to meet any one here? Am I in the way?” 

She answered him with a sort of heartbroken sim¬ 
plicity quite beyond pride: 

“ I don’t know what I expected. You were haunting 
me so. I came here because ... oh, Tony, don’t you 
remember at all?” 

“ I remember something that you appear to have 
forgotten, Raymond. When like a fool, and a dis¬ 
honourable fool at that, I gave you the secret of these 
passages, I remember very well the rather enthusiastic 
terms in which you asserted your conviction that the 
secret was a sacred trust, and one that you would keep 
178 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

absolutely inviolate. As, however, I broke my own trust 
in giving you the secret, I can, I suppose, hardly com¬ 
plain because you have imitated my lack of discretion.” 

Raymond did rise then. 

“ Tony, what do you mean?” she cried. 

“ My dear Raymond, you know very well what I 
mean.” 

“ I do not.” Her voice had risen; this was more 
the Raymond of their old quarrels, a creature quick to 
passionate anger, vehement and reckless. 

“ I say you know very well.” 

“ And I say that I do not. That I haven’t the 
shadow of an idea—and that you must explain, Tony; 
explain.” 

“ Oh, I’ll explain all right!” 

The last word was almost lost in a battering gust of 
wind. He waited for it to die away, and then: 

“ How soon did you give away the secret to Ember?” 
he said, and heard her gasp. 

“ To Jeffrey—you think I told Jeffrey?” 

Anthony laughed. It needed only her use of Ember’s 
name. 

“ I know that you told Ember,” he said in a voice 
like ice. 

Raymond put her hands to her head. She pressed 
her throbbing temples and stared at this shadow of 
Anthony. It was beyond any nightmare that they 
should meet like this. She made a very great effort, 
and came up to him, touching his wrist, trying to take 
his hand. 

“ Tony, I don’t know what you’re thinking of. I 
don’t know how you can speak to me like this. I don’t 
know what you mean—I don’t indeed. Since you went 
179 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


I have only been into the passages twice, last night and 
to-night. I went there because—oh, why do people go 
and weep upon a grave? I had no grave to go to, but 
I thought that, if I came here where we used to meet, 
perhaps the you that was haunting me would take 
shape so that I could see it, or else leave me. I felt 
driven, and I didn’t know what was driving me.” 

In the breathless silence that followed she heard 
him say: 

“ I know that you told Ember ”—and quite suddenly 
all the strength went out of her. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


HEN Jane turned, and ran back down the 



▼ V dark passage, she had just the one thought— 
to get away out of earshot. That she, or any one but 
Anthony Luttrell, should have heard that breaking 
tone in Raymond’s voice shocked her profoundly. 
She felt guilty of having intruded upon the innermost 
sacred places of another woman’s life. It shocked and 
moved her very deeply. Tears blinded her, and she 
ran into the dark without a thought for herself. It 
was only when, looking back, she could not see even a 
glimmer of outside twilight that she halted and began 
to think what she must do. 

The practical was never very long in abeyance with 
Jane. She began to plan rapidly, even whilst she 
dried her eyes. She would feel her way to the foot of 
the stairs. If she kept touching the left-hand wall, 
there would be very little risk of losing her way. Only 
one passage had led off in that direction and that one 
diverged at right angles, so that she would not run 
the risk of going down it unawares. When she came 
to the foot of the stairs, she would turn back again 
and wait in the first cross-passage until Raymond 
passed. Then she would follow her up the steps and 
watch to see how the door opened on this side. 

Jane was very much pleased with her plan when 
she had made it. It made her feel very intelligent 
and efficient. She began to put it into practice at 


181 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


once, walking quite quickly with her right hand feeling 
in front of her and the left just brushing the wall. 
Of course the stone was horrid to touch—cold, damp, 
slimy. She was sure the slime was green. Once she 
jabbed her finger on a rock splinter, and once she 
touched something soft which squirmed. The dark 
seemed to get darker and darker, and the silence was 
like a weight that she could hardly carry. 

Her little glow of self-satisfaction died down and 
left her coldly afraid. Then, quite suddenly, she 
came to the cross-passage. Her fingers slid from the 
stone into black air, groped, stretched out, and touched 
—something—warm, alive. 

Jane’s gasping scream went echoing down the dark. 
A hand came up and caught her wrist, another fell 
upon her right shoulder. 

“Jane, for the Lord’s sake, hush! ” said Henry’s voice. 

Jane caught her breath as if she were going to 
scream again. 

“Henry, you utter, utter, utter beast!” she said, 
and incontinently burst into tears. 

Henry put his arms round her, and Jane wept as 
she had never wept in her life, her face tightly pressed 
against the rough tweed of his coat sleeve, her whole 
figure shaking with tumultuous sobs. 

Presently, when she was mopping her eyes and feel¬ 
ing quite desperately ashamed, she exclaimed: 

“ I had just touched a slug, and you were worse. 
I didn’t think anything could be worse than a slug, 
but you were.” 

Henry had kissed the back of her neck twice while 
she was crying. Now he managed to kiss a little bit 
of damp cheek. 


182 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ You’re not to,” said Jane, in a muffled whisper. 

“ Why not?” said Henry, with the utmost sim¬ 
plicity. “ You don’t mind it, you know you don’t.” 
He did it again. “ Jane, if you had minded, you 
wouldn’t have clung to me like that. Jane darling, 
you do like me a little bit, don’t you?” 

“ Oh, I don’t! And I didn’t cling, I didn’t.” 

“ You did. Take it from me, you did.” 

Jane made a very slight effort to detach herself. 
It was unsuccessful because Henry was a good deal 
stronger than she was and he held her firmly. 

“ Henry, I really hate you,” she said. “ Any one 
might cling, if they thought it was a slug or Mr. Ember 
and then found it wasn’t.” Then, after a pause, 
“ Henry, when a person says they hate you, it’s 
usual to let go of them.” 

“ My book of etiquette,” said Henry firmly, “ says— 
page 163, para. ii.—‘A profession of hatred is more 
compromising than a confession of love; a woman who 
expresses hatred in words has love in her heart.’ And 
I really did see that in a book yesterday, so it’s bound 
to be true, isn’t it?—isn’t it, darling?” 

“ Henry, I told you to stop,” said Jane; “ I simply 
won’t be kissed by a man I’m not engaged to.” 

“ Oh, but we are,” said Henry. “ I mean you will, 
won’t you?” 

Jane came a very little nearer. 

“ We should quarrel,” she said, “ quite dreadfully. 
You know there are some people you feel you’d never 
quarrel with, not if you lived with them a hundred 
years; and there are others, well, you know from the 
very first minute that you’d quarrel with them and 
keep on doing it.” 


183 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Like we’re doing now?” said Henry hopefully. 
Jane nodded. Of course Henry could not see the 
nod, but he felt it because it bumped his chin. 

“ All really happily married people quarrel,” he 
said. “The really hopeless marriages are the polite 
ones. And you know you’ll like quarrelling with me, 
Jane. We’ll make up in between whiles, and there 
won’t be a dull moment. Will you?” 

“ I don’t mind promising to quarrel,” said Jane. 
“ No, Henry, you’re positively not to kiss me any 
more. I’m here on business, if you’re not. How 
did you get here? And why were you lurking here, 
pretending to be a slug?” 

“ Suppose you tell me first,” said Henry. “ How 
did you get here?” 

“ I followed Lady Heritage. I’ve got an immense 
amount to tell you.” 

She leaned against Henry’s arm in the darkness, 
and spoke in a soft, eager voice: 

“ It really began yesterday. I woke up and couldn’t 
go to sleep again, so I came down for a book, and just 
as I was at the drawing-room door, I saw Lady Heritage 
come out of the corner by Willoughby Luttrell’s 
picture. Did you know there was a door there, Henry?” 

“ Yes. Go on.” 

“ She went upstairs, and I was trying to screw up my 
courage to cross the hall when Mr. Ember came down 
the stairs and disappeared into the same corner. Of 
course then I knew there must be a door there, so 
I made up my mind to come down to-night and look 
for it.” 

“ Jane, wait,” said Henry. “ You say Ember came 
down the stairs and went through the door. Do you 
184 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


think Lady Heritage left it open? Or do you think he 
watched her come out, and then found the way for 
himself?” 

“ No,” said Jane; “ neither. I mean I’m quite sure 
it wasn’t like that at all. She shut the door, for I heard 
it, and it certainly wasn’t the first time Mr. Ember had 
been that way. Why, he even put his light out before 
he came to the wall, and any one would have to know 
the way very well to find it in the dark.” 

“ Yes. Then what happened?” 

“ I went back to bed. Henry, you simply haven’t 
any idea how much I hated going up those stairs. 
There was a perfectly fiendish patch of moonlight, and 
I felt as if I couldn’t go through it and perhaps be 
pounced on by some one just round the corner. If it 
hadn’t been for the housemaids finding me in the morn¬ 
ing, I believe I should just have stuck where I was.” 

Henry’s arm tightened a little. 

“ Well, to-night I hid in the study quite early, but 
I had hardly got there when Lady Heritage came down. 
I watched to see what she did, and as soon as she had 
gone through the door and shut it, I hauled that great 
heavy chair along and climbed on to it, and found the 
spring. Your old secret door was made for much taller 
people than me, and I was just dreadfully frightened 
that some one would come and find me standing on the 
chair in the corner, and looking like a perfect fool. Oh, 
I was thankful when I really got into the passage and 
found that Lady Heritage was still in sight.” 

“ I think it was frightfully clever of you,” said 
Henry, “ frightfully clever and frightfully brave; but 
you’re not to do it again. You might have run into 
Ember or any one.” 


185 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Then you do believe there’s something dreadful 
going on,” said Jane quickly. 

“ I don’t know about what I believe, but I know 
that the passages are being used, and that they’ve been 
wired for electric light. I haven’t explored them yet, 
but people don’t do that sort of thing for nothing. 
Now go on. I may say that I saw Raymond pass, and 
you after her. What happened next?” 

Jane hesitated. 

“ I’ll tell you,” she said. “ She opened another 
door, and went out—why, it’s been puzzling me, but of 
course I know now, the passage leads to the headland. 
And the other day, when I was so frightened, Mr. 
Patterson must have come out of it; and he was there 
to-night.” 

“ Yes, go on. Did they meet?” 

“ Yes,” said Jane, in a queer, shy voice. “ I couldn’t 
help hearing. I ran away at once, but I couldn’t help 
hearing her call him Tony. It’s your cousin, Anthony 
Luttrell, isn’t it?” 

“ Yes, it’s Tony,” said Henry. “ Thank the Lord 
they’ve met. I’d just left him there after jawing him 
about seeing Raymond.” 

“ Oh, I hope they’ve made it up,” said Jane. “ She 
looked so dreadfully unhappy last night that I felt I 
simply couldn’t bear it. It’s so dreadful to see people 
hurt like that, and not be able to do anything. Do you 
think they’ll make it up?” 

“ I hope so,” said Henry not very hopefully. 
“ Tony’s a queer sort of fellow, you know—frightfully 
hard to move, and a perfect devil for hugging a griev¬ 
ance. He’s had a rotten time of it too. What w T ith 
Raymond marrying some one else, and then getting 
186 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


knocked out himself, and coming round to find himself 
a prisoner—well, there wasn’t much to take his mind 
off it. He escaped three times before he actually got 
away, and then he went to Russia and had the worst 
time of the lot. So that he’s got a good deal of excuse 
for sticking to his grouch.” 

Jane suddenly pinched Henry very hard, put her 
lips quite close to his ear, and breathed: 

“ Some one’s coming.” 

As she spoke Henry drew her noiselessly back a yard 
or two. The faint glow which Jane had seen bright¬ 
ened until it seemed dazzling. The arched entrance to 
the tunnel in which they stood became sharply defined. 
The light struck the opposite wall, showing it rough 
and black, with patches of dull green slime. 

Instantly Jane felt that her finger-tips would never 
be clean again. As the thought shuddered through her 
mind the light went by. That’s what it looked like, 
the passing of a light. Raymond’s dark figure hardly 
showed behind it. The lighted archway faded. The 
darkness spread an even surface over everything 
again. 

Jane laid her face against Henry’s sleeve, pressed 
quite close to him, and said in a little voice that 
trembled: 

“ Oh, they haven’t made it up—they haven’t. He’d 
have come with her if they had.” 

“ I’m afraid so.” 

“ Of course he’d have come with her. You wouldn’t 
have let me go by myself, you know you wouldn’t. 
No, they haven’t made it up, they can’t have, and—oh, 
Henry, why do people quarrel like that? You won’t 
with me, will you—ever? I mean that dreadful 
187 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


world-without-end sort. I couldn’t bear it. You 
won’t, will you?” 

Jane was shaking all over. Henry put his arms 
round her very tight, laid his cheek against hers, and 
said: 

“ Not much! It’s a mug’s game.” 

After a little while Jane said: 

“ I must go. You know she came to my room 
before, and last night when I got back I found the door 
shut. I had left it open so as not to make any noise, 
but it was shut when I got back. That frightened me 
more than anything, but now I think it must have 
been the wind that shut it. I think so, only I’m not 
sure. It might have been the wind, or it might 
have been . . . somebody. It’s much more frighten¬ 
ing not to be sure. So I’d better go, hadn’t I?” 

“ Yes, you must go,” said Henry. “ I’ll come with 
you and show you how to get out. And you must 
promise me, Jane, that you won’t come down here by 
yourself?” 

“ How can I promise? I might have to.” 

“ Why?” 

“ 1 don’t know why,” said Jane, “ but I might have 
to. Supposing they were murdering some one, and 
I heard the screams? Or suppose I knew that they 
were just going to blow the house up?” 

“ Well,’’.said Henry, with strong common sense, “ I 
don’t see what good you’d do by getting murdered and 
blown up too, which is what it would come to. You 
really must promise me.” 

“ I really won’t.” 

Henry gave her an exasperated shake. 

Look here, Jane,” he said, “ the whole thing’s 
188 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


most infernally complicated. Tony’s chucking his 
job here, says he can’t stand it, and I must go back 
to town and see Piggy about that.” 

“Who on earth is Piggy?” said Jane. 

“ Sir Julian Le Mesurier, my chief. Every one calls 
him Piggy. I must see him about Tony, and I also 
want to report what I told you about the passages 
being wired and in use. I’ll try and see Tony again 
before I go. You see the thing is, I don’t know how 
far Raymond is involved, and I want to get her out 
of the way. Tony’s the only man who can get her 
out of the way. I suppose I ought to go through 
all the passages to-night, but I’m not going to. I 
shall tell Piggy why. As a matter of fact, he’ll be 
just as keen as I am on getting Raymond out of it. 
Once she’s clear, we can come down on Ember like 
a cartload of bricks and smash up any devilry he may 
have been contriving. Now do you see why you must 
keep clear? I can’t possibly do my job if I’m torn in 
bits about your running into danger. And next time 
you went feeling along these passages you might really 
run into your friend Ember, you know.” 

“ I won’t unless I’ve got to,” said Jane. “ You 
don’t imagine I like green slime, and slugs, and the 
pitch dark, do you? But I won’t promise. Now I’m 
going. Good-bye, Henry.” 

“ You’re an obstinate little devil, Jane,” said Henry. 

Jane gave a little gurgling laugh. 

“ We haven’t made an assignation yet,” she said. 
“ When are you coming back?” 

“ Well, I’ve made an appointment with Tony for 
to-morrow night, but I’ll try and catch him now and 
put that off for twenty-four hours. If for any reason 
189 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


I have to come down sooner, I will come and tap on 
your cupboard door. If Urn not there by midnight 
to-morrow, don’t expect me. But I’ll be there for 
certain the following night—let me see, that’s Sunday.” 

“ But if you don’t come?” 

“ I will.” 

“ Well, just supposing something prevented you?” 

“ It won’t,” said Henry cheerfully. 


190 


CHAPTER XIX 


H ENRY found Anthony Luttrell sitting on the 
stone bench and so oblivious of his surround¬ 
ings that it needed a hand on his shoulder to rouse him. 
Then he said vaguely: 

“ Oh, you’re back.” 

“ Rouse up a bit, Tony. It might have been Mr. 
Jeffrey Ember, you know. He was in the passages 
last night, and, for all I know, he may be there every 
night. I came back to say that I shan’t be down 
to-morrow. Make our appointment Sunday night 
instead.” 

“ I want to be out of this by then,” said Anthony. 
“ I’ll go sick if there’s no other way. Stay here 
another forty-eight hours I cannot, and will not. I 
tell you I can’t answer for myself.” 

Henry gave an inward groan. Jane had evidently 
been entirely right. They had not made it up. 

“ You’ve seen Raymond. I saw her pass.” 

“ IVe seen . . . Lady Heritage. Henry, will you 
tell me what the devil women are made of? She 
seemed to expect to take things up exactly as if the last 
seven years had never been at all, exactly as if there 
had been no breach, no war, no John Heritage, and 
no Jeffrey Ember. Oh, damn Jeffrey Ember! . . .” 

“ And I suppose you stood there and fired off sar¬ 
castic remarks at the poor girl, instead of thanking 
heaven for your luck. What’s the good of brooding 
191 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


over the past, Tony, and letting it spoil everything for 
you now? Raymond cares a heap more for you than 
you deserve, and if she’s got into a mess, it’s up to you 
to get her out of it. After all, you don’t want a 
scandal, do you?” 

“ I’ve got to get away. It’s no good, Henry.” 

“ I’ll give Piggy your letter,” Henry went on, “ and 
tell him how you feel. He’ll recall you all right. 
But I know he’s very strong on your coming to life 
again. You ought to have done it ages ago; when 
you came back from Russia, in fact. Look here, 
Tony, be a reasonable being. Shave off your beard, 
and take the artistic colour off that scar. Turn up 
in London as yourself, and wire Raymond to come up 
and meet you. I want her got away from here.” 

“ Then get Piggy to wire to her, or her father. 
There are a dozen ways in which it can be done. I 
refuse quite definitely to have anything to do with it. 
If Piggy hasn’t recalled me by Monday, I shall simply 
go. You can tell him that, if you like; and you can 
tell him that I shall probably kill some one if I stay 
here.” 

Without another word he got up, walked round the 
seat, and disappeared into the passage. 

A little later Henry emerged from a cave upon the 
seashore. There were a number of these caves, some 
large, some small, under the far side of the headland. 

The boundary of Luttrell Marches lay a quarter of a 
mile behind. 

Henry walked briskly along the shore, keeping close 
to the cliff so that he might walk on rock instead of 
shingle. Presently he left the beach and climbed a 
steep zigzagging path. Twenty minutes’ walk brought 
192 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


him to a small inn where he picked up his car and 
drove away. 

Next day in Sir Julian’s room he unburdened himself 
and delivered Anthony’s letter. 

“ ’M, yes; I’ll recall him,” said Piggy frowning. 
“ He’s no good where he is, if that’s his frame of mind. 
But it’s a pity—a pity. It bears out exactly what 
I’ve always said. He has extraordinary abilities; 
I suppose he might have made a brilliant success in 
almost any profession, but he’s 'unpayable. ... I 
don’t think we’ve got a word for it in English . . .; 
he lacks the vein of mediocrity which I maintain is 
indispensable—the faculty of being ordinary which, for 
instance, you possess.” 

Henry blushed a little, and Sir Julian laughed. 

“ I think I’ll send him abroad again. Of course 
it’s high time he came to life, as you say, if it’s only 
for the sake of getting you out of what must be an 
extremely awkward position. My wife tells me that 
match-making mammas of her acquaintance regard 
you with romantic interest as the owner of Luttrell 
Marches. Well, I’ll see him when he comes up. Mean¬ 
while, I’ve had Simpson’s report. He says that, 
according to reliable information, two men were con¬ 
cerned in the sale of Formula ‘ A.’ One is a man called 
Belcovitch, the other, who seems to have kept in the 
background, is described as a big good-looking man— 
florid complexion, blue eyes, either English or Ameri¬ 
can, though he passed under the name of Bernier and 
professed to be Swiss. Does that fit your friend Ember 
by any chance?” 

“ No,” said Henry, “ but it sounds very much like 
Molloy.” 


193 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Molloy was supposed to have gone to the States, 
wasn’t he?” 

Piggy had been drawing a neat brick wall at the foot 
of a sheet of foolscap. He now sketched in rapidly two 
fighting cats. It was a spirited performance. Each 
cat had wildly up-ended fur and a waving tail. 

“ Well, he and Ember told Miss Smith that he was 
going to the States. I don’t know that that goes for 
very much.” 

“ ’M, no,” said Piggy. “ Well, Bernier passed 
through Paris yesterday, and is in London to-day. 
Belcovitch has gone to Vienna. Now, if Bernier is 
Molloy, he’ll probably communicate with Ember. I 
was having him shadowed, of course, but the fool who 
was on the job has managed to let him slip. I’m 
hoping to pick him up again, but meanwhile . . 

Piggy was putting in the cats’ claws as he spoke, his 
enormous hand absolutely steady over the delicate 
curves and sharp points. 

“ There’s nothing more about Ember?” said Henry. 

Sir Julian shook his head, and went on drawing. 
“ He wore the white flower of a blameless life in Chi¬ 
cago, and was absolutely unknown to the police,” he 
said. “ There’s a three-volume novel about Molloy, 
though. You’d better have it to read. Now you go off 
and have some sleep, and . . . er, by the way, if Miss 
Smith . . . what’s her other name?” 

“ Jane,” said Henry. 

“ Well, if she wants to get away at any time, my 
wife will be very pleased to put her up.” 

“ Thank you awfully, sir,” said Henry. 

When he had gone, Sir Julian asked the Exchange 
for his private number. He sat holding the receiver to 
194 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

his ear and touching up his cats until Isobel’s voice 
said: 

“ Yes, who is it?” 

Then he said: 

“ M’ dear, in the matter of Henry.” 

“ Yes? Has anything happened?” 

“ In the matter of Henry,” said Piggy firmly, “ I 
should say, from his conscious expression, that he had 
brought it off. Her name is Jane Smith.” 

“ And I mayn’t ask any questions?” 

“ Not one. I just thought you’d better know her 
name in case she suddenly arrived to stay with you. 
That’s all. I shall be late.” 

He rang off. 


195 


CHAPTER XX 


I T was not till next day that Jane missed her 
handkerchief. When she reached her room 
after saying good-bye to Henry she had rolled the 
serge dress, the wet felt slippers and the damp stock¬ 
ings into a bundle, and pushed them right to the back 
of her cupboard. She was so sleepy that she hardly 
knew how she undressed. 

The instant her head touched the pillow, she slept, 
a pleasant, dreamless sleep, and only woke with the 
housemaid’s knock. 

It was when she was drinking a very welcome cup 
of tea that she began to wonder whether she was 
engaged to Henry or not. On the one hand, Henry 
undoubtedly appeared to think that she was; on the 
other, Jane felt perfectly satisfied that she had pledged 
herself to nothing more formidable than a promise to 
quarrel. A small but very becoming dimple appeared 
in Jane’s cheek as she came to the conclusion that 
Henry was possibly engaged to her, but that she was 
certainly not engaged to Henry. It seemed to her 
to be a very pleasant state of affairs. It was, in fact, 
with great reluctance that she transferred her thoughts 
to more practical matters. 

Having dressed, she extracted the bundle of clothes 
from the cupboard, and decided that the serge dress 
might be hung up. There were one or two damp 
patches and several green smears, but the former 
196 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

would dry and the latter when dry would brush 
off. 

“ But the slippers are awful,” she said. 

They were; the cork soles sopping wet, the felt 
drenched and slimy. She made a brown paper parcel 
of them, and put it at the extreme back of the cup¬ 
board. The stockings she consigned to the clothes 
basket. 

“ I can wash them out later on,” she thought. 

It was at this point that she missed her handkerchief. 
She had had a handkerchief the night before. She 
was sure of that, because she remembered drying her 
eyes with it after she had cried. 

A little colour came into her face at the recollection 
of how vehemently she had wept on Henry’s shoulder 
with Henry’s arm round her, but it died again at the 
insistently recurring thought: 

“ I had a handkerchief. I dried my eyes with it. 
Where is it?” 

Not only had she dried her eyes with it, but after 
that she remembered scrubbing the finger-tips that had 
touched the slug. The handkerchief must be horribly 
smeared and wet. It was one of Renata’s, of course, 
white with a blue check border, and “ R. Molloy, 12 ” 
in marking-ink across one corner. Imagine buying 
twelve horrors like that! Mercifully Renata must 
have lost most of them, for Jane had only inherited 
four. 

She brought her thoughts back with a jerk. Where 
was it? If she had dropped it in the house it would 
have been either in the hall, on the stairs, or in the 
corridor, and one of the housemaids would have 
brought it to her by now. It must have fallen in the 
197 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

cross-passage where she had stood with Henry, and if 
it were found . . 

Jane moved a step or two backwards, and sat down 
on the edge of the bed. 

“ Of all the first-class prize idiots!” she said, and 
there words failed her. 

If she had dropped it in the cross-passage, it might 
lie there until Sunday night when she could get Henry 
to retrieve it, or it might not. Ember—Lady Heritage 
—Anthony Luttrell, any one of these three people 
might have business in that cross-passage, in which 
case a handkerchief, even if stained, was just the most 
unlikely thing in the world to pass unnoticed. Even 
if no one went up that passage, it might be seen from 
the main tunnel. Of course, if it were Anthony 
Luttrell who found it, it would not matter. But it 
was so very much more likely to be one of the others. 

At intervals during the morning, Jane continued to 
argue the question, or rather two questions. First, 
the probabilities for and against the handkerchief 
being discovered; and second, should she, or should 
she not, go and look for it herself in defiance of Henry’s 
prohibition? She had spoken the truth, but not the 
whole truth, when she told Henry that she hated the 
idea of going into the passages alone. She hated 
going, but she wanted to go. Most ardently she 
desired to find things out before Henry found them 
out. It would be nice and safe to sit with her hands 
in her lap whilst Henry explored secret subterranean 
caverns, and unravelled dangerous conspiracies—safe 
but hideously dull. When Henry had finished exploring 
and unravelling, he would come along frightfully 
pleased with himself and want her to be engaged 
198 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

to him, and he would always, always feel superior 
and convinced that he had done the whole thing 
himself. It was a most intolerable thought, more 
intolerable than green slime and being alone in the 
dark. It was at this point that Jane made up her 
mind that she would go and look for her handkerchief 
herself without waiting for Henry. 

Having made her decision, she found an unlooked- 
for opportunity for carrying it out, for at lunch Lady 
Heritage announced her intention of putting in several 
hours of laboratory work, whilst it transpired that 
Ember was going out in the two-seater car which he 
drove himself, and that he was quite uncertain when 
he would be back. Jane at once made up her mind 
that, as soon as the coast was quite clear, she would 
slip down into the passages. She would wait until 
lunch had been cleared and the servants were safely 
out of the way. No one was likely to come into the 
hall, and the whole thing would be so much less 
terrifying than another midnight expedition. 

Ember excused himself before lunch was over, and 
she heard him drive away a few minutes later; but 
Lady Heritage sat on, her untasted coffee beside her. 
She sat with her chin in her hand, looking out of the 
window, and it was obvious enough that her thoughts 
were far away. She was probably unconscious of 
Jane’s presence, certainly undesirous of it, and yet, for 
the life of her, Jane could not have risen or asked if 
she might go. Once or twice she looked from under 
her lashes at Raymond’s still white face. There was a 
new look upon it since yesterday. She was sadder and 
yet softer. She looked as if she had not slept at all. 

After a very long half-hour she turned her eyes on 
199 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Jane. There was a flash of surprise and then a 
frown. 

“ You needn’t have waited/’ she said in a cold voice, 
and then got up and went out without another word. 

Jane took a book into the hall and sat there. 

Presently she caught a glimpse of Raymond’s white 
overall in the upper corridor, and heard the clang with 
which the steel gate closed behind her. She sat quite 
still and went on reading until all sounds from the 
direction of the dining-room had ceased. Silence 
settled upon the house, and she told herself that this 
was her opportunity. 

She ran up to her room, changed into the serge dress, 
and put on a pair of outdoor shoes. She did not possess 
an electric torch, and the question of a light had 
exercised her a good deal. The best she could do was 
to pocket a box of matches and one of the bedroom 
candles which was half burnt down. She then went 
downstairs, and, after listening anxiously for some 
moments, she once more moved the heavy chair and, 
climbing on it, began to feel for the knots on the panel¬ 
ling. As her fingers found and pressed them, she 
heard, simultaneously with the click of the released 
spring, a faint thudding noise. With a spasm of 
horror she knew that some one had passed through the 
baize door that shut off the servants’ wing. The 
sound she had heard was the sound of the door falling 
back into place, and at any other moment it would have 
gone unnoticed. 

Fortunately for herself Jane was accustomed to a 
rapid transition from thought to action. She was off the 
chair, across the hall, and sitting with a book on her lap 
when the butler made his usual rather slow entrance. 

200 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


She had recognised at once that it would be impos¬ 
sible for her to replace the chair and escape discovery. 
It stood in the shadow, and she hoped for the best. 

Blotson crossed the hall and disappeared into Sir 
William’s study. 

Jane gazed at a printed page upon which the letters 
of the alphabet were playing “ General post.” After 
some interminable minutes Blotson reappeared. He 
shut the study door, approached Jane, and in a low 
and confidential voice inquired would she have tea in 
the hall, the drawing-room, or the library. 

“ Oh, the library,” said Jane, “ the library, Blotson.” 
And with a majestic, “ Very good, miss,” Blotson 
withdrew. 

Blotson’s “ Very good ” always reminded Jane of 
the Royal Assent to an Act of Parliament. It was 
doubtless a form, but how stately, how dignified a 
form. 

When the chill superinduced by the presence of 
Blotson had yielded to a more natural temperature, 
Jane went on tiptoe across the hall and replaced the 
chair. It was a comfort to reflect that it had escaped 
Blotson’s all-embracing eye. With a hasty glance she 
swung the panel inwards, slipped through, and closed 
it again. 

She descended all the steps before she ventured to 
light her candle, and she was careful to put the spent 
match into her pocket. Renata’s dress really did have 
a pocket, which, of course, made the dropping of the 
handkerchief quite inexcusable. 

The passage was much less terrifying when one had 
a light of one’s own instead of the distant glimmer of 
somebody else’s and the horrid possibility of being 
201 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


left at any moment in total darkness, with no idea of 
one’s whereabouts or of how to get out. 

Jane’s spirits rose brightly. To dread a thing and 
then to find it easy provides one with a pleasant sense 
of difficulty overcome. In great cheerfulness of spirit 
Jane walked along until she came to the cross-passage 
on her right. She turned up it, walked a few steps 
holding her candle high, and there, a couple of yards 
from the entrance, lay the handkerchief rolled into a 
wet and very dirty ball. She picked it up gingerly, and 
put it into her convenient pocket. 

“ And I suppose I ought to go back at once; but 
what a waste, when every one is safely out of the way, 
and I’ve got through the really horrid part, which is 
opening that abominable spring.” 

Jane hesitated, weighing the duty of a swift return 
against the pleasure of exploring and perhaps getting 
ahead of Henry. The recollection that Henry had 
forbidden her to explore turned the scale—towards 
pleasure. 

She had four inches of candle and a whole box of 
matches. She had at least two hours of liberty, and, 
most important of all, she felt herself to be in a frame 
of mind which invited success. The question was 
where to begin. 

On the right-hand side there was only this single 
passage. Jane did not feel attracted by it. She was 
almost sure that it must lead to the potting-shed, 
and to descend from conspiracies to garden lumber 
would indeed be an anti-climax. 

On the left there were four passages. Jane walked 
back along the way she had come. The first passage 
left the main tunnel at an acute angle which obviously 
202 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


carried it back under the main block of the house. 
Jane decided to explore it. She held her candle high 
in one hand and her skirts close with the other. The 
passage was low, and she had to bend a little. After 
half a dozen yards she came to a flight of steps. They 
were wet, slippery, and very steep. Jane stood on 
the top step and looked down. 

The walls oozed moisture, the candlelight showed 
her a pale slug about five inches long—Jane said six to 
start with, but, under pressure from Henry, retreated 
as far as five and would not yield another half-inch; 
she also said that the slug waved its horns at her and 
was crawling in her direction. Right there, as the 
Americans say, she made up her mind that this would 
be a good passage to explore with Henry, later on. 
She caught a glimpse of another slug on a level with 
the fifth step, whisked round, and ran. 

“ The one point about slugs is that they can’t run,” 
she said as she came back into the main corridor. 

Without giving herself time to think, she plunged 
into the next opening on the left. It ran at right 
angles to the central passage, and was comparatively 
dry. It kept on the same level too, and Jane, trying 
to make a mental plan, thought that it must run under 
the house, cutting across the north wing. It occurred 
to her that there might be vaults of some kind under 
the terrace, and that this passage would perhaps lead 
to them. If this were so, it must soon either curve 
gradually to the left or take a sudden sharp turn. She 
wished she had thought of counting her steps, but it 
was difficult to pace regularly on a slippery floor and 
in such a poor light. 

Just as she had begun to think that the passage 
203 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


must run out to sea, she came to the sharp turn which 
she had expected. A wall of black rock faced her, to 
her right a tunnel ran in at a sharp angle, and to her 
left there was a dark stone arch, a few feet of a new 
sort of tunnel built of brick, and then a steel gate 
exactly like the gates which shut off the laboratories 
in the house above. 

Jane stared at the gate as if she expected it to 
dissolve into the surrounding darkness. The candle¬ 
light danced on the steel. It was rusty, but not so 
very rusty, and therefore it could not have been for 
very long in its present position. She came closer 
and touched it. It was real. 

Her amazing good fortune almost overcame her. 
What a thing to tell Henry! What a justification 
for flouting his orders!! What a score!// 

Jane transferred the candle to her left hand, put 
out a right hand which trembled with excitement, 
and tried the gate. It was open. For a moment 
she drew back. Like the child who sits looking at a 
birthday parcel, the mere sight of which provides 
it with so many thrills that it cannot bring itself to 
cut the string and unwrap the paper, Jane stood and 
looked at her gate, her discovery—hers, not Henry’s. 

As she looked, her eyes were caught by a small knob 
on the right-hand wall. It was about four feet above 
the floor and quite close to the steel bars. It was 
made of some dull metal and looked exactly like an 
electric-light switch. By going quite close to the 
gate and looking through she could see that a cased 
wire ran along the bricks on the same level, and she 
remembered that Henry had said the passages were 
wired. 


204 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Had Henry been first on the field after all? She 
turned, held her light high, and looked back. The 
wire went up to the roof and ran along until she lost 
it in the darkness. She reflected hopefully that Henry 
might have seen the wire much farther along, and 
turned back again. 

Her fingers were on the switch when a really dread¬ 
ful thought pricked her. Suppose the switch controlled 
some horrible explosive! It might turn on a light, 
most likely it did; but, on the other hand, it might 
let loose a raging demon of destruction that would 
blow the whole place to smithereens. It was an un¬ 
reasonable thought, the sort of thought that one 
dismisses instantly in the daylight, but which by 
candlelight in an underground tunnel assumes a certain 
degree of credibility. 

“ The question is, am I going on or not?” 

The silence having failed to supply her with an 
answer, she said viciously, “ You’re a worse rabbit 
than Renata,” shut her eyes, held her breath, and 
jerked the switch down. 

Through her closed lids came a red flash. She clung 
to the switch and waited. A drop of boiling wax 
guttered down upon her left forefinger. She opened 
her eyes and saw the steel gate like a black tracery 
against a lighted space beyond. With a quickly 
drawn breath of relief she pushed the steel gate, took 
one step forward, and then stood rigid, listening to the 
muffled yet insistent whir of an alarm bell. After 
one horrified moment she pulled the door towards her 
again. The sound ceased. Jane considered. 

As a result of her consideration she turned out the 
electric light, opened the gate, slipped through, and 
205 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


closed it again so quickly that the bell was hardly 
heard. She did not allow it to latch, and, stooping, 
set a piece of broken brick to hold it ajar. The 
candlelight seemed very inadequate, but she decided 
that she must make it do, and holding it well up in 
front of her, she came through a brick arch into a 
long chamber with walls of stone. 

Jane looked about her with ignorant, widely opened 
eyes. She had never been in a laboratory, but she 
knew that this must be one. The printed page does 
not exist for nothing. The vague yellow light flickered 
on strange cylindrical shapes and was flung back by 
glass jars and odd twisted retorts. A great many 
appliances, for which she could find no name, emerged 
from dense shadow into the uncertain dusk. 

“ It’s like a mediaeval torture chamber—only worse, 
colder—more calculating! It’s a sort of torture 
chamber. I hate it. It gives me the grues,” said 
Jane. 

She moved slowly down the room. It was quite 
dry in here. There was no slime, and there were 
no slugs. 

“ I hate it a thousand times more than the pas¬ 
sages,” she said. 

Her feet moved slowly and unwillingly. In the far 
corner there were two more arches. She thought she 
would just see what lay beyond them and then return. 
She took the one on the right hand first. It ran along 
a little way and then terminated in a small round 
chamber which was full of packing-cases. She returned 
and went down the second passage. She was just 
inside it when with startling suddenness she found 
herself looking at her own shadow. It lay clear and 
206 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


black on the brick floor in front of her. Some one had 
turned on the electric light. 

Jane’s candle tilted and the wax dropped. Her 
horrified eyes looked about wildly for a place of refuge. 
The light showed her one. Within a yard of the 
entrance there was an arched hollow. With a sort of 
gasp she blew her candle out and bolted for the shelter. 
The whir of the electric bell sounded as she gained it, 
sounded and then ceased. She heard Ember say, 
“ Quite a good run, wasn’t it?” and a voice which 
she did not expect answer, “ Well enough.” The 
voice puzzled her. It was a pleasant voice, deep and 
rich. It had something of a brogue and something of 
a twang. 

A most unpleasant light broke upon Jane. It was 
the voice of the Anarchist Uncle. It was the voice of 
Mr. Molloy. 

Jane got as far back into her hollow as she could. 
It was not very far. There had evidently been a 
tunnel here, but the roof had fallen in, and the floor 
was rough and uneven with the debris. 

She heard the two men moving in the room beyond, 
and she experienced a most sincere repentance for not 
having attended to the counsels of Henry. 

“ And now we can talk,” said Ember. “ You’ve 
got the cash?” 

“ Not with me,” said Mr. Molloy. 

“ Why not?” 

“ Oh, just in case . . —a not unmelodious 

whistle completed the sentence. 

“ They paid the higher figure?” 

“ They did,” said Mr. Molloy. “ Belcovitch was for 
taking their second bid, but I told him ‘ No.’ Belcovitch 
207 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

has his points, but he’s not the bold bargainer. I told 
him 1 No.’ I told him 1 It’s this way—if they want it 
they’ll pay our price.” And pay it they did. I don’t 
know that I ever handled that much money before, and 
all for a sheet or two of paper. Well, well-” 

“ You should have brought the money with you. 
Why didn’t you?” 

In the now brightly lighted laboratory Molloy sat 
negligently on the end of a bench and lifted his eye¬ 
brows a little. 

“ Well, I didn’t,” he said. 

“ Where is it?” 

“ In a place of safety.” 

Ember shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Well, we’ve pulled it off,” he said. “ By the way, 
the fact of the sale is known. We’ve had an interfering 
young jack-in-office down here making inquiries, and 
Sir William has gone up to town in a very considerable 
state of nerves.” 

“ The Anarchist Uncle,” said Jane to herself, “ has 
been selling the Government Formula ‘ A.’ He doesn’t 
trust Mr. Ember enough to hand the money over. 
Pleasant relations I’ve got!” 

Molloy whistled again, a long-drawn note with a hint 
of dismay in it. 

“I wonder who let the cat out of the bag,” he 
said. 

# “ These things always leak out. It doesn’t really 
signify. With this money at our command we can 
complete our arrangements at once, and be ready to 
strike within the next few weeks. You and Belcovitch 
had better keep out of the way until the time comes. 
He should be here in four days’ time, travelling by the 
208 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


route we settled; then you’ll have company. You 
must both lie close here.” 

“ That’s the devil of a plan now, Ember,” said Mol- 
loy. “ We’ll be no better than rats in a drain.” 

“ Well, it’s for your safety,” said Ember. “ They’re 
out for blood over this business of Formula ‘ A,’ I 
can tell you, and there’s nowhere you’d be half so 
safe.” 

Jane was listening with all her ears. She decided 
that Mr. Ember’s solicitude was not all on Molloy’s 
account. “ He thinks that if Molloy and Belcovitch 
are arrested, they’ll give him away over the big thing 
in order to save themselves. I expect they’d be able to 
make a pretty good bargain for themselves, really.” 
She heard Molloy give a sulky assent. Then Ember 
was speaking again: 

“ I want to check the lists with you. Not the con¬ 
tinental ones—I’ll keep those for Belcovitch—but those 
for the States and here. I’ve got them complete now, 
but I’m not very sure about all the names. Hennessey 
now, he’s down for Chicago, but I don’t know that I 
altogether trust Hennessey.” 

“ It’s late in the day to say that,” said Molloy. 

“ Well, what about Hayling Taylor?” 

Jane listened, and heard name follow name. Ember 
appeared to be reading from a list. He would name a 
large town and follow it with a list of persons who 
apparently acted as agents there. Sometimes these 
names were passed with an assenting grunt by Molloy, 
sometimes there was a discussion. 

There are a great many large towns in the United 
States of America. Jane became stiffer and stiffen 
At last she could bear her constrained half-crouching 
209 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


position no longer. Very gingerly, moving half an inch 
at a time, she let herself down until she was sitting 
on the pile of broken bricks which blocked the tunnel. 
The names went on. It was dull and monotonous to a 
degree, but behind the dullness and the monotony there 
was a sense of lurking horror. 

“ It’s like being in a fog,” said Jane—“ the sort you 
can’t see through at all, and knowing that there’s a 
tiger loose somewhere.” 

One thing became clearer and clearer to her. Those 
lists that sounded like geography lessons must be got 
hold of somehow. Henry must have them. 

After what seemed like a long time Ember folded 
up one paper and produced another. If Jane had been 
able to watch Mr. Molloy’s face, she would have 
noticed that, every now and then, it was crossed by a 
look of hesitation. He seemed constantly about to 
speak and yet held his peace. 

“ I’d like you to check the names for Ireland too,” 
said Ember. “ Grogan sent me the completed list two 
days ago. You’d better look at it.” 

Molloy took the paper and ran his finger down 
the names, mumbling them only half audibly. His 
finger travelled more and more slowly. All at once 
he stopped, and threw the paper from him along the 
bench. 

“ What is it?” said Ember, in his cool tones. 

Molloy frowned, got up, walked to the end of the 
room, and came back again. He appeared to have 
something to say, and to experience extreme difficulty 
in saying it. His words, when he did speak, seemed 
irrelevant: 

“ That’s a big sum they paid us for Formula ‘ A 
210 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

he said. “ Did you ever handle as much money as that, 
Ember?” 

“ No,” said Jeffrey Ember, short and sharp. 

“ Nor I. It’s a queer thing the feeling it gives 
you. I tell you I came across with fear upon me, not 
knowing for sure whether I’d get away with it; but 
there was a lot besides fear in it. There was power, 
Ember, I tell you—power. Whilst I’d be sitting in the 
train, or walking down the street, or lying in my bed 
at an hotel, I’d be thinking to myself, I’ve got as 
much as would buy you up, and then there would 
be leavings.” 

“ What are you driving at, Molloy?” said Ember. 

Molloy’s florid colour deepened. He narrowed his 
lids and looked through them at Ember. 

“ Maybe I was thinking,” he said, “ that there’s a 
proverb we might take note of.” 

“ Well?” 

“ It’s just a proverb,” said Mr. Molloy. “ It’s been 
in my mind since I had the handling of the money—‘ A 
bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’ ” 

Ember’s eyes lost their dull film. They brightened 
until Mr. Molloy was unable to sustain their glance. 
He shifted his gaze, and Ember said very quietly: 

“ Are you thinking of selling us?” 

Molloy broke into an oath. “ And that’s a thing no 
one shall say of me,” he said, with a violence that sent 
his voice echoing along through the open arches. 

“ Then may I ask you what you meant?” 

“ Why, just this.” Molloy dropped to an ingrati¬ 
ating tone. “ There’s the money safe—certain—in our 
hands now. What’s the need of all this?” 

He came forward with two or three great strides, 
211 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


picked up the list from where he had thrown it, and 
beat with it upon his open hand. 

“ All this,” he repeated—“ this and what it stands 
for. You may say there’s no risk, but there’s a big 
risk. It’s a gamble, and what’s the need to be 
gambling when we’ve got the money safe?” 

“ In plain English, you want to back out at the last 
moment?” 

“ I do not, and I defy you to say that I do.” 

“ Then what’s come to you?” 

“ Here’s the thing that’s come to me. It came to 
me when I ran me eye down this list. See there, and 
that’ll tell ye what has come to me.” 

He thrust the list in front of Ember. 

“ It’s Galway you’ve got set down there.” 

“ Well, and what of it?” said Ember. 

“ What of it?” said Mr. Molloy. “ I was bom in 
Galway, and the only sister I ever had is married there. 
Four sons she has, decent young men by all the 
accounts I’ve had of them. If I haven’t been in Gal¬ 
way for thirty years, that’s not to say that I’ve no feel¬ 
ing for my own flesh and blood. Why, the first girl I 
ever courted lived out Barna way. Many’s the time 
I’ve met her in the dusk on the seashore, and she half 
crying for fear of what her father would do. Katie 
Blake her name was. They married her to old Timmy 
Dolan before I’d been six months out of the country. A 
fistful of gold he had, and a hard fist it was. I heard 
tell he beat her, poor Katie. But ye see now, Ember, 
it’s the same way with your native place and your first 
love, ye can’t get quit of them. Now I hadn’t been a 
month in Chicago before I was courting another girl, 
but to save my neck I couldn’t tell ye what her name 
212 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

was, and ye may blow Chicago to hell to-morrow and 
I’ll not say a word.” 

“ But not Galway?” Mr. Ember’s tone was very 
dry indeed. 

“ You’ve said it. Not Galway. I’ll not stand for 
it.” 

Ember laughed. It was a laugh without merriment, 
cool, sarcastic. 

“ Molloy, the man of sentiment!” he said. “Now 
doesn’t it strike you that it’s just a little late in the 
day for this display of feeling? May I ask why you 
never raised the interesting subject of your birth¬ 
place before?” 

“ Is it sentiment that you’re sarcastic about?” 
said Molloy. “ If it is, I’d have you remember that 
I’ve never let it interfere with business yet, and I 
wouldn’t now. Many’s the time I’ve put my feelings 
on one side when I was up against a business propo¬ 
sition. But I tell you right here that when I see 
my way to good money and to keeping what I call my 
sentiment too it looks pretty good to me, and I say to 
myself what I say to you, ‘ What’s the sense of going 
looking for trouble?’ ” 

Ember laughed again. 

u I will translate,” he said. “ From the sale of the 
Government formula you see your way to deriving a 
competency. You become, in a mild way, a capitalist. 
Luxuries before undreamed of are within your grasp— 
romantic sentiment, childhood’s memories, the finer 
feelings in fact. As a poor man you could not dream of 
affording them, though I dare say you’d have enjoyed 
them well enough. Is it a correct translation?” 

“ It is,” said Molloy. 


213 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Molloy the capitalist! ” Ember’s voice dropped 
just a little lower. “ Molloy the man of sentiment! 
Molloy the traitor! No you don’t, Molloy, I’ve got 
you covered. Why, you fool, you don’t suppose I 
meet a man twice my own size in a place that no one 
knows of without taking the obvious precautions?” 

Molloy had first started violently, and next made a 
sort of plunge in Ember’s direction. At the sight of 
the small automatic pistol he checked himself, backed 
a pace or two, and said: 

“ You’ll take that word back. It’s a damned lie.” 

He breathed hard and stared at the pistol in Ember’s 
hand. 

“ Is it?” said Ember coolly. “ I hope it is, for your 
sake. I’d remind you, Molloy, that no one would 
move heaven and earth to find you if you disappeared, 
and that it would be hard to find a handier place for 
the disposal of a superfluous corpse. Now listen to 
me.” 

He set his left hand open on the lists. 

“ This is going through. It’s going through in 
every detail. It’s going through just as we planned 
it.” He spoke in level, expressionless tones. He 
looked at Molloy with a level, expressionless gaze. A 
little of the colour went out of the big Irishman’s face. 
He drew a long breath, and came to heel like a dog 
whose master calls him. 

“ Have it your own way,” he said. “ It was just 
talk, and to see what you thought of it. If you’re 
set on the plan, why the plan it is.” 

“ We’re all committed to the plan,” said Ember. 
“ You were talking a while ago as if you and I could 
do a deal and leave the rest of the Council out. Setting 
214 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Belcovitch on one side, weren’t you forgetting to 
reckon with Number One?” 

“ Maybe I was,” said Molloy. “ And come to that, 
Ember, when are we to have the full Council meeting 
you’ve been talking of for months past? Belcovitch 
and I had a word about it, and he agrees with me. 
We want a full meeting and Number One in the chair 
instead of getting all our instructions through you. 
It’s reasonable.” 

“ Yes, it’s reasonable.” Ember paused, and then 
added, “ You shall have the full Council when Bel¬ 
covitch comes.” 

Jane on her pile of debris leaned forward to catch 
the words. Ember’s voice had dropped very low. 
She was shaking with excitement. Her movement 
was not quite a steady one. A small piece of rubble 
slid under the pressure she placed on it. Something 
slipped and rolled. 

“ What’s that?” said Ember sharply. 

“ Some more of the passage falling in,” said Molloy, 
“ by the sound of it.” 

“ Just take a light and see.” 

“ It might have been a rat,” said Molloy carelessly. 

There was a pause. Jane remained absolutely 
motionless. If they thought it was a rat perhaps 
they would not come and look. She stiffened herself, 
wondering how long she could keep this cramped 
position. Then, with a spasm of terror, she heard 
Molloy say, “ I’ll have a look round. We don’t want 
rats in here,” heard his heavy footfall, and saw a 
brilliant beam of light stream past the entrance of her 
hiding-place. 

Before she had time to do more than experience a 
215 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


stab of fear, Molloy walked straight past. She heard 
him go up the passage, heard him call out, “ There’s 
nothing here.” Then he turned. He was coming 
back. Would he pass her again? It was just 
possible. She tried to think he would, and then she 
knew that he would not. The light flashed into the 
broken tunnel mouth. It flashed on the sagging roof, 
the damp walls and the broken rubble. It flashed on 
to Jane. 

Jane saw only a white glare. She knew exactly 
what a beetle must feel like when it is pinned out as a 
specimen. The light went through and through her. 
It seemed to deprive her of thought, volition, power to 
move. She just stared at it. 

Mr. Molloy using his flashlight cheerfully, and much 
relieved at a break in his conversation with Ember, 
received one of the severest shocks of his not un¬ 
adventurous life. One is not a Terrorist for thirty 
years without learning a little elementary self-control 
in moments of emergency. He did not therefore 
exclaim. He merely stared. He saw a sagging roof 
and damp walls. He saw a muddled heap of broken 
bricks unnaturally clear cut and distinct. He saw the 
shadows which they cast, unnaturally black and hard. 
He saw Jane, whom he took to be his daughter Renata. 
His brain boggled at it. He passed his hand across his 
eyes, and looked again. His daughter Renata was 
still there. She was half sitting, half crouching on the 
pile of rubble. Her body was bent forward, her elbows 
resting on her knees, her hands one on either side of 
her colourless cheeks. Her face was tilted a little 
looking up at him. Her mouth was a little open. Her 
eyes stared into the light. 

216 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Jane stared, and Mr. Molloy stared. Then, with a 
sudden turn he swung round and passed back into 
the laboratory. As he went he whistled the air of 
“ The Cruiskeen Lawn.” 

Jane remained rigid. The beetle was unpinned. 
The light was gone. But the darkness was full of 
rockets and Catherine-wheels. Her ears were buzzing. 
From a long way off she heard Ember speak and 
Molloy answer. The rockets and the Catherine-wheels 
died away. She put her head down on her knees, and 
the darkness came back restfully. 


217 


CHAPTER XXI 


HE clang of the steel gate was the next really 



A distinct impression which Jane received. In 
a moment she was herself. It was just as if she 
had been asleep, and then, to the jar of a striking 
clock, had come broad awake. She listened 
intently. 

That clang meant that the gate had been shut. One 
of the men had gone, probably Ember. One of them 
certainly remained, for she could see that the lights 
in the laboratory were still on. If it were Molloy, he 
would come and find her. But it was just possible that 
it was Jeffrey Ember who had remained behind, so 
she must keep absolutely still, she knew. 

At this moment Jane felt that she had really had 
as much adventure as she wanted for one day. She 
thought meekly of Henry, and soulfully of her tea. 
Blotson would be laying it in the library. There would 
be muffins. She was dreadfully thirsty. Jane could 
have found it in her heart to weep. The thought of the 
slowly congealing muffins unnerved her. She would 
almost have admitted that woman’s place is in the 
home. There is no saying what depths she might not 
have arrived at, had the return of the Anarchist Uncle 
not distracted her thoughts. The heavy tread con¬ 
vinced her that it was not Mr. Ember, but she did not 
stir until he came round the corner and flashed the 
light upon her face. Jane blinked. 


218 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“Holy Niagara!” said Mr. Molloy. “It was the 
fright of my life you gave me.” 

Jane scrambled to her feet. She was not quite sure 
what the situation demanded of her in the way of filial 
behaviour. Did one embrace one’s Anarchist Parent? 
Or did one just lean against the wall and look dazed? 
She thought the latter. 

Molloy turned the light away, and then flashed it 
back again with great suddenness. Jane shut her 
eyes. Mr. Molloy pursed his lips and emitted a whistle 
which travelled rapidly up the chromatic scale and 
achieved a top note of piercing intensity. Without a 
word he took Jane by the arm and brought her out of 
her hiding-place into the lighted laboratory. He then 
pushed her a little away, took a good look at her, and 
repeated his former odd expletive: 

“Holy Niagara!” he said in low but heartfelt 
tones. 

Jane felt a little giddy, and she sat down on the 
bench. Her right hand went out, feeling for support, 
and touched a sheaf of papers. Through all the con¬ 
fusion of her thought she recognised that these must be 
the lists from which Ember had been reading. 

“ What is it?” she said faintly. 

Molloy put down his electric torch, came quite close 
to her, bent down with a hand on either knee until 
his face was on a level with hers, and said in what he 
doubtless intended for a whisper: 

“ And where is me daughter Renata?” 

Jane leaned back so as to get as far away from the 
flushed face as possible. She opened her mouth 
without knowing what she was going to say, and quite 
suddenly she began to laugh. She leaned her head 
219 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


against the brick wall behind her, and the laughter 
shook her from head to foot. 

“ Glory be to God, is it a laughing matter?” said 
Mr. Molloy; “ whisht, I tell you, whisht, or you’ll 
be having Ember back.” 

He straightened himself, and made a gesture in the 
direction of the roof. 

“ It’s crazy she is,” he said. 

Jane put her hand to her throat, gasped for breath, 
and stopped laughing. 

“ I’m sorry,” she said. “ It was—you were—I 
mean, what did you say?” 

“ I said, where is me daughter Renata?” said Molloy 
in his deepest tones. 

Jane gulped down a gurgle of laughter. 

“ Your daughter Renata?” she said. 

“ Me daughter Renata,” repeated Mr. Molloy 
sternly. “ Where is she?” 

Jane felt herself steadying. 

“ Why do you think—what makes you think-?” 

“ That you’re not my daughter? They say it’s a 
wise child that knows its own father, but it’s a damn 
fool father that wouldn’t know his own daughter.” 

“ Bow do you know?” said Jane. 

Molloy laughed. 

“ That’s telling,” he said; “ but I don’t mind telling 
you. You’re my niece Jane Smith and not my 
daughter Renata Molloy; and, even if I wasn’t her 
father, I’d always know you from Renata, the way I 
could always tell your two mothers apart when no one 
else could. Your mother had a little mole on her 
left eyelid, just in the corner where it wouldn’t show 
unless she shut her eyes. My wife hadn’t got it, and 
220 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

that’s the way I could always tell her from her sister. 
And my daughter Renata hasn’t got it, but you have; 
and when you blinked, in yonder, I got a glimpse of 
it; and when I flashed the light on to you again and 
you shut your eyes, I made sure. And now, perhaps 
you’ll tell me where in all the world is Renata?” 

Jane’s gaze rested intelligently upon Mr. Molloy. 
The corners of her mouth lifted a little. The dimple 
showed in her left cheek. 

“ Renata,” she said in a very demure voice, “ is in 
a safe place, like the money you went abroad for.” 

Molloy looked at her uncertainly; in the end he 
laughed. 

“ Meaning you won’t tell me,” he said. 

“ Meaning that I’m not sure whether I’ll tell you or 
not.” 

“ Maybe it would be better if I didn’t know. That’s 
what you’re thinking?” 

“ Yes, that was what I was thinking.” 

“ Well, well,” said Mr. Molloy. Then he laughed 
again. “ I’ve the joke on Ember anyhow,” he said. 
“ He thinks he’s got a patent for most of the brains in 
the country, and here he’s been led by the nose by a 
slip of a girl just out of school. And what’s more, 
he was taken in and I wasn’t. He’ll find that hard to 
swallow, will Mr. Jeffrey Ember. You’d not have 
taken me in, you know, even if I’d not had the mole 
to go by. And one of these fine days I shall twit 
Ember with that.” 

“ Are you so sure you’d have known me?” said 
Jane. “ Why?” 

“ My dear girl,” said Mr. Molloy, “ if you knew your 
cousin Renata, you’d not be asking me that. If I 
221 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


find a girl in an underground passage all in the dark, 
well, that girl is not my daughter Renata. And if, 
by any queer sort of chance, Renata had been in that 
hole where I found you, she’d have screamed blue 
murder when I turned the light on her. Then, at 
an easy guess, I should say you had Renata beat to a 
frazzle in the matter of brains. I’m not saying, mind 
you, that I’m an admirer of brains in a woman. It’s 
all a matter of opinion, and there’s all sorts in the 
world. But you’ve got brains, and Renata hasn’t, 
and Ember’s had you under his nose all this time 
without ever knowing the difference.” 

Jane laughed. 

“ Perhaps I didn’t exactly obtrude my superior 
intelligence on Mr. Ember,” she said. Her eyes 
danced. “ You’ve no idea how stupid I can be when 
I try, and I’ve been trying very hard indeed.” 

“ The devil you have?” said Mr. Molloy. “ Well, 
you had Ember deceived and that’s a grand feather 
in your cap, I can tell you. He’s a hard one to deceive 
is Ember.” 

Jane gurgled suddenly. 

“ As a matter of fact,” she said, “ I deceived you, 
too. Yes, I did, I really did. You know the morning 
you went off to America, or rather the morning you 
went off not to America? At the flat? You said 
good-bye to me, not to Renata.” 

“ And where was Renata then?” 

Jane twinkled. 

“ In the safe place,” she said. 

“ I’ll swear it was Renata the night before,” said 
Molloy. 

“ Yes, that’s clever of you. It was.” 

222 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Molloy was thinking hard. 

“ And which of you was it in the night when we 
thought the roof had fallen in, and came into Renata’s 
room to look out of the window? I’d my heart in my 
mouth, for I thought it was a bomb. Was it you 
or Renata sitting up in bed like a ghost?” 

“ That was me,” said Jane. “ You couldn’t have 
been nearly so frightened as I was.” 

“ Then you changed places between eight and eleven 
that night?” 

“ We changed places,” said Jane, “ just as you and 
Mr. Ember came home. I shut Renata’s door just 
as you opened the door of the flat. I was in the hall 
when the lift stopped.” 

“ Then I think I know how you did it,” said Molloy. 
He seemed interested. “ But I’d like to know who 
put you up to it; and I’d like to know who gave the 
back entrance away; and I’d like to know how Renata, 
who hasn’t the nerve of a mouse, got down that blamed 
fire-escape alone.” 

Jane dimpled again. 

“ You do want to know a lot, don’t you?” she 
said. 

There was a pause. Then Jane said: 

“ And now, what happens next, please?” 

“ That,” said Molloy, “ is just what I’m wondering.” 

“ I ought to be getting back, I think,” said Jane. 

“ Ah, ought you now?” said Mr. Molloy thought¬ 
fully. 

There was another pause. Jane thought she would 
leave Mr. Molloy to break it this time. She sat con¬ 
sidering him. Her eyes dwelt upon him with a calm 
scrutiny which he found extremely embarrassing. The 
223 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

longer it continued, the more embarrassing he found 
it. In the end he said: 

“ You want me to let you go?” 

Jane nodded. 

“ And not tell Ember?” 

Jane gave another nod, cool and brief. 

“ Oh, the devil’s in it,” said Molloy, with sudden 
violence. 

“ You don’t need the devil; you’ve got Mr. Ember,” 
said Jane. 

“ And that’s true enough, for it’s the very devil 
and all he is, and, if I let you go, I’ll have him to 
reckon with—some day. I’d rather face the Day of 
Judgment myself.” 

“ I tell you what I think,” said Jane. “ I think Mr. 
Ember is mad. That is to say, I think he is the sort of 
fanatic who sees what he wants and sets out to get 
it, without knowing half the difficulties and obstacles 
that block the way. When he does begin to know 
them he doesn’t care, he just goes along blind. Where 
a reasonable man would alter his plan to suit the cir¬ 
cumstances, this sort of fanatic just goes on because 
he’s made his plan and will stick to it whatever 
happens. He isn’t governed by reason at all. He 
doesn’t care what risks he runs, or what risks he makes 
other people run. He goes right on, whatever happens. 
If the next step is over a precipice he’ll take it. He 
must go on. Mr. Ember is like that. I think he is 
mad.” 

Mr. Molloy stared hard at Jane, then he nodded 
slowly three times. 

“ Now you’re not like that,” said Jane. “ You’re 
reasonable. You don’t want to run appalling risks 
224 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


when there’s absolutely nothing to be gained by it. 
Of course, every one’s willing to run risks if it’s worth 
while. I’m sure you are. I’m sure you’ve done 
awfully dangerous things.” 

“ I have,” said Mr. Molloy, with simple pride. 
“ There’s no one that’s done more for The Cause, or 
run greater risks. I could tell you things—but there, 
maybe I’d better not.” 

Jane clasped her hands round her knees. She 
leaned back against the wall and regarded Mr. Molloy 
with what he took to be admiration. 

“ Now do tell me,” she said—“ when you speak of 
The Cause, what do you mean?” 

In her heart of hearts Jane had a pretty firm con¬ 
viction that, to Mr. Molloy, The Cause stood for 
whatever promoted the wealth, welfare, and advance¬ 
ment of himself, the said Molloy. 

“ Ah,” said Mr. Molloy reverentially. He spread out 
his hands with a fine gesture. “That’s a big question.” 

“ Well, what I mean,” said Jane, “ is this. What do 
you really call yourself? You know, I always used to 
call you ‘ The Anarchist Uncle,’ but the other day some 
one said that there were no Anarchists any more, 
so I wondered what you really were. Are you a 
Socialist, or a Communist, or a Bolshevist, or what?” 

A doubtful expression crossed Mr. Molloy’s hand¬ 
some face. 

“ Well, now,” he said, “ it would depend on the 
company I was in.” 

Jane had a struggle with the dimple and subdued it. 

“ You mean,” she ventured, “ that if you were with 
Socialists, you would be a Socialist; and if you were 
with Bolshevists, you would be a Bolshevist?” 

225 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Well, it would be something like that,” admitted 
Mr. Molloy. 

“ I see,” said Jane. “ And, of course, whatever you 
were, you’d naturally want to be sure that it was going 
to be worth your while. I mean you’d want to get 
something out of it?” She waited a moment, and 
then went on, with a complete change of voice and 
manner, “ What are you going to get out of this?” 
She spoke with the utmost gravity. “ If you don’t 
know, I can tell you. Disaster—at best a long term 
of imprisonment, at the worst death, the sort of death 
one doesn’t care about having in one’s family. The 
question is, is it worth it? You’re not in the least 
mad. You’re not a fanatic either. You are a per¬ 
fectly sane and reasonable person, and you know 
that what I’m saying is the sane and reasonable 
truth. Isn’t it?” 

“ Faith, and wasn’t I saying so to Ember myself,” 
said Molloy in gloomy agreement. “ We’ve got money 
enough, and we can live on it retired, so to speak. The 
life’s all very well when you’re young, but a man of my 
age isn’t just so keen on taking chances as he was, and 
that’s the truth. Then there’s the old times come over 
him, and he thinks of the place where he was born, and 
he thinks, maybe, he’d like to see it again. Why, 
with the money I’ve got,” said Mr. Molloy, “ it’s a 
fine house I could have in Galway, and a car, and a 
horse or two. That’s what I’d like.” 

Jane saw his face light up. 

“ It’s a fine town Galway,” he said, “ and there are 
people I’d like to see there, and places too. The 
people would be changed, I’m thinking, but not the 
places. I’d like well enough to go up the river past 
226 


/ 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Menlough again. It’s the grand woods there are there, 
and then there’s a place where you’d see nothing but 
reeds, and no way at all for a boat. But let you push 
through the reeds and a way there is, and you come 
out to the grey open water and the country round it 
just as bare as if you’d taken sand-paper to it. They 
used to say that the water went down to hell, but I’m 
not saying that I believe it; but deep it is, for no one’s 
ever touched the bottom. Many’s the stone I’ve 
dropped in there, and wakened in the night to wonder 
if it was still sinking; and many’s the time I’ve played 
truant, and gone there fishing for the great pike that 
they said was in it. Hundreds of years old he is by 
the tales, and once I could swear I saw him, only 
maybe it was only a cloud that was passing overhead. 
What I saw was just a grey shadow, and all at once it 
come over me that I should be getting back to my 
work. I was black frightened, that’s the truth, but I 
couldn’t tell you why.” 

Jane looked at Mr. Molloy, and experienced some 
very strange sensations. He might sell her to Ember 
next moment, but for this moment he was utterly 
sincere and as simple as a child. His sentiments were 
not hypocrisy. They represented real feeling and 
emotion; but feeling, emotion, and sentiment had been 
trained to take the wall obediently at the bidding of 
what Mr. Molloy would call business. For all her 
youth, Jane felt a rush of pity for anything so played 
upon from without, so ungoverned from within as this 
big handsome man who stood there talking earnestly 
of his boyhood’s home. 

“ Why don’t you go back and see it all again?” 
she said. 


227 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Well, I’d like to,” said Mr. Molloy, “ but what 
good’ll my house in Galway do me if I waken up some 
fine night with a knife in me heart or a bomb gone off 
under me bed?” 

It seemed a difficult question to answer. 

Molloy began to pace the room. 

“ I must think,” he said. 

All the time that Jane had been talking, part of her 
mind had been continually occupied with the question 
of the lists, those lists of towns and the agents in each 
who were to be entrusted with the work of destruction. 
It might not be so difficult to get hold of them, but 
to get hold of them without their being missed by 
Ember . . . that was the difficulty. She had only to 
drop her right hand to the bench on which she sat and 
it touched the flimsy sheets. 

Whilst Molloy was discoursing of his birthplace, she 
considered more than one plan. She must not precipi¬ 
tate Ember’s suspicions until she could place this 
evidence in Henry’s hands. If she took the lists and 
Ember missed them, he would suspect and accuse 
Molloy, and Molloy would most certainly exonerate 
himself at her expense. On the other hand, if she let 
the lists slip when they were under her hand, who was 
to say whether the opportunity would recur. Ember 
would return. He already distrusted Molloy, and 
what would be more likely than that he would remove 
such incriminating papers from Molloy’s care? 

Then, quite suddenly, Jane knew what she must do. 
She didn’t want to do it, but she knew she must. 
She must get the papers now, she must copy them, 
and she must put them back before daybreak whilst 
the Anarchist Uncle was asleep. Jane had never 
228 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

contemplated anything which frightened her half so 
much as the idea of putting those papers back in that 
discouraging hour before the dawn, but she knew that 
it must be done. 

As Mr. Molloy walked up and down frowning in¬ 
tently, there were moments when his back was turned 
towards Jane. The first time this happened Jane’s 
hand took hold of the thin papers and doubled them 
in half. The next time that it happened she doubled 
them again. She went on doubling them until the 
large thin sheaf had become a small fat wad. Then 
whilst Molloy’s back was turned she lifted her skirt 
and pushed the wad down inside her stocking top. 
When Molloy faced her again her hands were folded 
on her lap. 

“ I really must be going,” she said. 

He threw her an odd, sidelong glance. It made 
Jane feel a little cold. 

“ Since you heard so much just now, I don’t doubt 
you heard Ember tell me just how convenient this 
place would be for putting some one that wasn’t 
wanted out of the way?” 

“ Yes, I heard what he said,” said Jane, “ but I’m 
afraid Mr. Ember doesn’t know everything. As far 
as I remember, he described these passages as a place 
no one knew anything about.” 

“ He did,” said Molloy, staring. 

Jane gave a little laugh, and felt pleased with herself 
because it sounded steady. 

“ Well, to my certain knowledge, three other peo¬ 
ple know the way in here,” she said. 

Molloy showed signs of uneasiness. 

“ Meaning you and me and . . . since you heard 
229 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

the rest, I’m supposing you heard me name Number 
One.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean you and me at all,” said Jane. 
“ I was thinking of two quite different people, and as to 
Number One, I could answer that better if I were sure 
who Number One was. The third person I’m thinking 
of may be Number One, or may not. I’m not 
sure.” 

“ I’m thinking,” said Molloy—“ I’m thinking you 
know too much. I’m thinking you know a deal too 
much.” 

Jane met his eyes full. Her own were steady, his 
were not. 

“ Are you going to tell Mr. Ember, and let him 
‘ eliminate ’me?” 

Molloy gave a violent start. 

“ Where did you hear that?” he said. 

“It wasn’t I who heard that, it was Renata. It 
was one of the things that made her so anxious to 
change places with me.” 

“ And what made you willing to change with her?” 
Molloy’s voice was harsh with suspicion. 

“ I hadn’t a job, or any relations to go to. I had 
exactly one-and-sixpence in the world. I didn’t know 
where I was going to sleep that night—that’s pretty 
awful for a girl, you know; and then . . . Renata was 
so frightened.” 

“ She would be,” was Molloy’s comment. “ And 
weren’t you frightened now?” 

“ I suppose I was,” said Jane. 

“ You had need to be.” The something that had 
made Jane feel cold before was in Molloy’s look and 
voice. “ You had need to be more afraid than you’ve 
230 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


ever been in your life. Renata would have stayed 
quiet, but nothing would serve you but you must 
push, and poke, and pry. What were you doing here 
at all now, will you tell me that? Who showed you 
how to get down here? You say there are others 
who know the secret—who are they? Tell me 
that, will you . . . who are they?” Molloy’s 
sudden passion took Jane by surprise. Her heart 
began to beat, and she had difficulty in controlling 
her voice. 

“ Which question am I to answer first?” she said. 
“ Shall I begin at the beginning? I found the 
passages by accident. . . .” Molloy gave an im¬ 
patient snort. “ Yes, I did really, on my word of 
honour. I couldn’t sleep and came down to get a 
book. I was standing in the shadow and I saw some 
one come out of the panelling. Next night I thought 
I’d try and find the place. The same person came 
downstairs and went through the door in the wall. I 
followed.” 

“ Was it Ember?” 

“ No, it wasn’t Mr. Ember.” 

“ Who was it?” 

“ I believe you know,” said Jane, speaking 
slowly. 

“ Was it a woman?” said Molloy. He dropped 
his voice to a whisper and looked over his 
shoulder. 

Jane nodded. 

“Glory be to God!” said Molloy. “Did you see 
her face?” Jane nodded again. Molloy came quite 
close, bent down, and whispered: 

“ Was it the old man’s daughter? Was it ”— 
231 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


his voice dropped to the very edge of inaudibility— 
“ was it Lady Heritage?” 

Jane nodded for the third time. 

Molloy spun round, went straight to the steel door, 
and, opening it, looked up the passage. After a 
moment he came back. 

“ You saw her face? Will you swear that you 
saw her face?” 

“ Yes, of course.” 

“ Then you’ve seen more than I have. Do you 
know, I’ve never been sure. I’ve never really been 
sure. Ember’s talk, and—it was her face you saw, 
not that mask thing they wear in the laboratory, for 
that’s all I’ve seen? You saw her face?” 

“ Yes, I saw her face quite plainly,” said Jane. In 
her own mind something seemed to say with cold 
finality, “ Then Lady Heritage is Number One.” 

“ Well . . . Well . . . Well . . . Well . . said 
Mr. Molloy. 

There was a long pause. He seemed lost in thought, 
but suddenly he turned on Jane with the question 
which she hoped he had forgotten: 

“ You were saying that there were two others who 
knew the secret—you saw them down here?—down 
here in the passages?” 

“ Yes,” said Jane, without hesitation, “ I did. They 
were men. One of them had a beard. I couldn’t tell 
you their names or describe them any more than 
that.” 

Molloy looked desperately puzzled. 

“ Ember may know,” he muttered. 

“ He may,” said Jane. “ I should ask him.” 

Molloy gave a grunt and began to walk up and down 
232 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


again. The simile of the rat in the drain which he had 
made use of in conversing with Ember came back upon 
him with unpleasant force. His thoughts were con¬ 
fused by an access of unreasoning fear. Every time 
the question of what to do with Jane presented itself, 
he shied away from it. Jane knew too much. There 
was no doubt about that. She knew too much. 

In the circles frequented by Mr. Molloy self-preser¬ 
vation dictated a certain course with regard to the per¬ 
son who knew too much. After thirty years Molloy 
still disliked the contemplation of that course of action. 
He was of those who pass by upon the other side. He 
had a well-cultivated faculty for looking the other way. 
It occurred to him that, after all, Jane was Ember’s 
affair. Let her go back to the house, she was Ember’s 
affair, not his. He became instantly very anxious to 
see the last of Jane. 

Just as she was wondering how long this rather 
horrid silence was going to last, he walked up to her 
in a purposeful manner, put his hand on her arm, and 
pulled her to her feet. 

“ You’d best be getting back,” he said shortly. 

Jane felt as if some one had lifted a heavy weight off 
the top of her head. The weight must have been 
fear, and yet she did not know that she had been 
afraid. 

At the gate Molloy turned to her. 

“ Can you get into the hall?” he said. “ Without 
being seen, I mean.” 

“ I’m not sure, it’s awfully risky. But I could walk 
home from the headland, that would be much safer, 
and if I’ve been missed, it would account for my 
absence.” 


233 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Molloy bent a sulky look on her. 

“ The headland—you know that too?” he said. 
Then, with an impatient jerk he switched off the light, 
turned on his torch, and walked ahead of Jane in 
silence. 


234 


CHAPTER XXII 


N EVER in all her life had Jane seen anything so 
beautiful as the clear rain-washed sky, the grey 
rain-stilled sea. The little thud of the stone closing 
between her and Mr. Molloy was one of the most 
delightful sounds that she had ever heard. She felt 
as if she had never really appreciated the daylight 
before. There were nice woolly clouds on the horizon. 
The damp air was fresh, not like the air in those abom¬ 
inable passages. There was a gorse bush with about 
two and a half yellow flowers on it, rather sodden with 
the rain. Jane regarded them with intense affection. 

She walked down the gravel path, drawing long 
breaths and ready to sing with pure relief—“ Ease after 
toyle, port after stormie seas.” She frowned, remem¬ 
bering the next line. After all, they were not out of 
the wood yet. An unpleasant proverb succeeded 
Spenser’s line—“ He laughs longest who laughs last.” 

“ Rubbish,” said Jane out loud, and she began to 
run. 

She came in with such a glowing colour that Mr. 
Ember, who met her in the hall, was moved to remark 
upon it. 

“ You seem to have enjoyed your walk. Where 
have you been?” 

“ Round by the headland,” said Jane. 

The roll of typed paper pricked her knee beneath 
her stocking top. In her arms she carried a sheaf of 
235 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


yellow tulips. She made haste to her room and set 
the flowers in a jar on the broad window ledge where 
they could be plainly seen from the terrace. With all 
her heart she prayed that George Patterson, who was 
Anthony Luttrell, would see them. She did not know 
that George Patterson had ceased to exist, and that 
Anthony Luttrell, having taken the law into his own 
impatient hands, was on his way to London. 

There had been an encounter with Raymond in the 
laboratory—her hand for a moment on his arm, his 
muscles rigid under her touch; not a word spoken on 
either side, not a word needed. The scene carried 
Anthony to his breaking-point. At the next roll-call 
George Patterson was missing. Meanwhile Raymond 
was behind a locked door, and Jane set yellow tulips 
on her window-sill. 

Having made her signal, Jane turned her mind to 
the lists. She was afraid to keep them on her, and she 
was afraid to hide them anywhere else. If Molloy 
missed them, and had any means of communicating 
with Ember, she would be searched, and her room 
would be searched. Whatever happened to her, they 
must not recover the lists until she had copied 
them. 

She remembered the trap-door in the cupboard, 
but it was just possible that Ember knew about it, 
not likely but possible. After five minutes’ profound 
thought, she went to a drawer into which she had 
emptied a quantity of odds and ends. 

Renata, it appeared, had a mild taste for drawing. 
There were pencils, indiarubber, a roll of cartridge 
paper, and some drawing-pins. Jane took out the 
cartridge paper and the drawing-pins. She extracted 
236 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the lists from her stocking top and smoothed them out 
flat. Then she opened the cupboard door, mounted 
on a chair drawn as close to the cupboard as possible, 
and pinned the lists on to the cupboard ceiling with 
a sheet of cartridge paper covering them. They just 
fitted in between two rows of hooks. Jane got down 
with a sigh of relief and unlocked her bedroom door. 

The evening passed like a dream. Lady Heritage 
did not appear at all, and Jane found a strange un¬ 
reality in the situation which kept her talking to Mr. 
Ember in set schoolgirl phrases whilst he condescended 
to her with more than a hint of sarcasm. She was 
glad when she could take a book and read. 

It was eleven o’clock before she dared begin her 
night’s work, but she came up to her room with her 
plan all ready. First she took off her dress and put 
on a dressing-gown, just in case any one should come 
to the door. Then, having turned the key and switched 
off the light, she took a candle into the cupboard, set 
it on a shoe box, and took down the lists. She put 
a cushion on the floor, fetched Renata’s fountain pen 
and some sheets of foolscap which she had taken from 
the library, and began her work of copying. With 
the cupboard door shut there was no chance that 
any one would see her candle. 

She wrote steadily, town after town, name after 
name. More towns, more names. As she finished 
each sheet, she checked it very carefully by its original. 
It was weary, monotonous work; but the weariness 
and the monotony were like a grey curtain which 
hung between her and something which she dreaded 
inexpressibly. 

The idea of descending into the passage again, of 
237 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


creeping up to the laboratory in order to put back the 
lists before they were missed, filled her with shuddering 
repugnance. To allow her mind to dwell upon this 
idea was to become incapable of carrying it out. 
She therefore held her attention firmly to the endless 
names, and drove an industrious pen. She had to 
get up twice for more ink. Each time, as she stretched 
herself and walked the few paces to the table and back, 
the thought came to her like a cold breath, “ It’s 
coming nearer.” 

At last, in the dead stillness of the sleeping hours, 
the lists were finished. She pinned the copies on to 
the cupboard ceiling in the same way that she had 
pinned the originals, carefully covered with a piece of 
cartridge paper. Then she took the originals in her 
hand and faced the necessity for action. Her feet and 
hands were very cold. She felt as if it were days 
since she had had anything to eat. She wanted most 
dreadfully to go to bed and sleep. She wanted to 
have a good cry. What she had to do was to go down 
into slug- and possibly rat-haunted passages and risk 
waking an Anarchist Uncle out of his beauty sleep. 
Jane gave herself a mental shake. 

“ Don’t be a rabbit, Jane Smith,” she said. “ It’s 
^ot to be done. You know that just as well as I do. 
If it’s got to be done, you can do it. Get going at 
once.” 

She got going. First she put the lists back in her 
stocking top. Then she put on the old serge dress. 
Her fancy played hopefully with the thought that 
some day she would give herself the pleasure of burning 
that abominable garment. She extracted the maroon 
felt slippers from the paper parcel to which she had 
238 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


consigned them. They were still sopping. She put 
them on. They felt limp, damp, and discouraging, 
but they had the merit of making no noise. Then 
she took a good length of candle and a box of matches 
and opened her door. 

“ Well, here goes,” said Jane, and stepped into 
pitch darkness. This time she shut the door behind 
her. As she took her hand off the handle she felt 
as if she were letting go of her last hold on safety, an 
idiotic thought, as she instantly told herself. She 
knew by now just how many paces took one to the 
place where the light should have been burning, and 
just how many more to the stairhead. The rose 
window showed like a pattern painted on the dark. 
It gave no light, but it marked the position of the door. 

Jane felt the soles of her feet stick and cling to the 
damp slippers as she crawled down the stairs. They 
just didn’t squelch and that was all; they only felt 
like it. 

She hated moving the big chair in the dark, but it 
had to be done. Suppose she dropped it with a crash, 
suppose she pulled Willoughby LuttrelPs picture down 
when she was feeling for the catch; suppose a mouse 
ran over her foot—there is no end to the cheerful 
suppositions which will throng one’s brain in circum¬ 
stances like these. 

Jane did not drop the chair with a crash, neither 
did Willoughby Luttrell’s picture fall down, nor did 
a mouse run over her foot. She passed through the 
panelled door, shut it behind her, groped her way to 
the foot of the steps, and lighted the candle. It was 
then that the cheering thought that she might perhaps 
encounter Henry came to her, only to fade as she re- 
239 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


membered how long past midnight it now was. How¬ 
ever, if she had not Henry she had at least a light. 
It is much harder to be brave in the pitch dark even 
when, as in the present case, the darkness is really 
a protection. 

Jane walked quite blithely up the second passage on 
the left until she came to the point where she knew 
that she must put the light out again. Molloy might 
be awake. She blew out her candle and began to 
feel her way forward. She came to the corner, and 
passed it. Moving very slowly and cautiously, she 
crept up to the steel gate and stood with her finger¬ 
tips on it, listening, and thinking hard. She could feel 
that the door was ajar. That struck her as strange, 
very strange. If there ever was a man badly scared, 
Molloy was that man when she had said that the secret 
of the passages was not confined to himself and Ember. 
Yet he had gone to sleep leaving the gate ajar. Had 
he? Jane’s mind gave her a clear and definite answer. 
He hadn’t, he wouldn’t. She had been so sure that 
the gate would be shut, so ready with her plan. She 
was going to unfold the papers, push them between 
the bars, and jerk them as far across the room as 
possible. Molloy might think they had fallen from 
the bench, or, if he had his doubts, might well wish 
to avoid letting Ember know that Jane had been in the 
laboratory. All this she had so present in her thought, 
that to feel the gate give to her hand staggered her 
and set her shaking. She quieted herself and listened 
intently. Not a sound. 

She did not somehow fancy that Molloy would be a 
quiet sleeper. She had anticipated snores of a certain 
rich bass quality. Here was silence in which one 
240 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

might have heard an infant draw its breath, a silence 
undisturbed, inviolate. 

It was not only the silence which spoke to Jane. 
That odd, dim, only half-understood sense which some 
people possess, clamoured to her that the place was 
empty. As she stood there, and the seconds dragged 
into minutes, this sense became so insistent that she 
found herself resolving to act in obedience to its 
dictates. 

She pushed the gate and heard the alarm ring. 
With all her ears she listened for the sound of a man 
stirring, waking, and starting up. At the first move¬ 
ment she would have been away, and Molloy, new 
roused from sleep, would never have caught sight of 
her. There was no movement. The bell went on 
ringing, a little continuous trickle of metallic sound, 
not loud but as confusing as the buzzing of a mosquito. 

Jane switched on the light, slipped round the gate, 
and closed it. The bell stopped ringing. The jarred 
silence settled slowly, as dust settles when it has been 
stirred. There was no one there. The unshaded light 
showed every corner of the chamber. Molloy’s bag 
was gone. Like a flick in the face came certainty. 
“ He’s gone. Molloy’s gone too.” 

Slowly, almost mechanically, Jane extracted the 
rolled-up lists from her stocking. She was still hold¬ 
ing the unlighted candle in her left hand. The lists 
bothered her. She moved towards the bench to put 
them down, but first she laid the candle carefully on 
its side so as not to stub the wick, and, sitting down, 
began to smooth the papers out upon her knee. It 
was whilst she was doing this that she saw the note. 

It lay on the end of the bench propped up against 
241 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


a book. It was addressed to Jeffrey Ember, Esquire. 
The capital E’s were magnificent flourishes; an under¬ 
lining like an ornamental scroll supported the super¬ 
scription. Jane, like other well-brought-up people, 
was not in the habit of opening letters not addressed 
to herself. It may be said, however, that no solitary 
scruple so much as raised its head on this occasion. 
She tore open the tough linen envelope, and unfolded 
a lordly sheet. Molloy wrote a good, bold hand and 
legible withal. Every word stood clear. 

“ My dear Ember, —I’m off. The place is getting 
altogether too crowded. I’ve seen Renata, and she 
tells me that there are two men use the passages. One 
has a beard, but she couldn’t tell me their names or 
describe them further. She knows all about the 
passages herself. She confessed to having found them 
through following Number One. She has also seen 
you come in and go out. I don’t think this place is 
very healthy, so I’m making my get-away whilst I 
can. Drop the whole thing and get out quick is what 
I advise. I’m staunch, as you’ll find. Why did 
you take the lists after saying you’d leave them for 
me to look through? I’ll not work with a man that 
loesn’t trust me. You can write me at the old 
place.” 

The letter was signed with a large Roman three. 
It appeared that Mr. Molloy was more careful over his 
own identity than over that of Mr. Jeffrey Ember. 

Jane sat looking at the letter. It made her feel 
rather sick. If she had not come down, if she had 
shirked putting the papers back, if the letter addressed 
242 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


to Jeffrey Ember, Esquire, had reached Jeffrey Ember’s 
hands—well, it was a good enough death-warrant, 
and Molloy must have known that very well when he 
wrote it. 

“It’s exactly like a Moral Tract,” said Jane. “I 
hated coming back, and I did it from a Sense of Duty, 
and this is the Reward of Virtue.” 

She put the Reward of Virtue down rather gingerly 
on the bench beside her. She felt about touching it 
rather as she had felt when she touched the slug. She 
wanted to wash her hands. An odd creature Molloy. 
He had given her away exactly and completely, yet he 
had left her any small shred of protection which she 
might be supposed to derive from passing as his 
daughter. 

Jane turned her thoughts from Molloy to the more 
pressing consideration of her own immediate course of 
action. Ember would come in the morning, and would 
find Molloy gone, and no word to say where he had 
gone, or why. The idea of following in Molloy’s foot¬ 
steps presented itself vividly before Jane’s imagination. 
Why should she stay any longer at Luttrell Marches? 
The idea of getting away set her heart dancing. And 
what was there to stay for? She had all the evidence 
necessary to procure Ember’s arrest and the smashing 
of the conspiracy. The sooner she was out of Luttrell 
Marches and with her precious papers in a place of 
security the better. For a moment she contemplated 
taking the originals of the lists; Ember would naturally 
conclude that it was Molloy who had gone off with 
them. But on second thoughts she decided that it 
would be in the highest degree unwise to put Ember 
on his guard. His distrust of Molloy might be so 
243 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


great as to induce flight. She decided to leave the 
originals and to take the copies—but she had left the 
copies in her room pinned to the cupboard ceiling. 
Go back for them she could not. Even if she could 
have forced herself to the effort, the risk was too great. 
They must stay where they were, whilst she found 
Henry. The sooner she got off the better. She had 
no watch, but the night must be very far spent, and 

if Ember were to take it into his head to come back- 

The bare idea brought Jane to her feet. She picked 
up her candle, lit it, and with feelings of extreme 
satisfaction set fire to Molloy’s letter, making a little 
pent roof of it like the beginning of a card house on the 
stone floor. She had often admired the way in which 
masses of compromising documents are consumed in 
an instant by the hero or heroine of the adventure 
novel. She used four matches before she considered 
that this particular letter was really harmless. The 
envelope took two more. Then she collected the ash 
very carefully, crumbled it up well, and scattered it 
amongst the rubble in the broken-down passage where 
Molloy had found her. Then, having taken a good look 
round to make sure that nothing compromising re¬ 
mained, she picked up her candle and passed through 
the gate, leaving the laboratory in darkness behind her. 
When she came to the turn she hesitated, and finally 
went straight on, following the passage which she had 
not yet explored, down which Molloy and Ember had 
come the day before. She was almost sure that it 
would lead back into the main corridor just short of the 
headland exit; but she had not gone more than a yard 
or two along it when she heard something that brought 
her heart into her mouth. 


244 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Almost as the sound reached her she had blown her 
candle out and was pinching the glow from the wick. 
For a moment the darkness was full of phantom 
tongue-shaped flames; then she stopped seeing them 
and saw instead a faint glow coming from the direction 
in which she herself had come on her way to the 
laboratory. Somebody was coming along the passage. 
If she had gone back by the same way that she had 
come, she would have met this somebody. As it was, 
she might escape notice. If the person were going to 
the laboratory, he would have to take a sharp turn 
to the left, a right-angled turn. The passage in 
which she was ran off at an acute angle, and the person 
approaching would have his back to her as he 
passed. 

The glow became a beam. Next moment Ember 
passed without turning his head. Jane saw the back 
of his shoulder dark against the light from his torch, 
and caught a fleeting glimpse of his profile, just enough 
for recognition and no more. Indeed, it was the fur 
coat that she recognised as much as the man. She 
stood quite still whilst he switched on the electric light 
and passed into the laboratory, then she turned and 
walked away as quickly as she dared, feeling her way 
by the wall till a turn in the passage gave her enough 
courage to light her candle. She put the spent match 
in her pocket, looked ahead, and drew a sharp, almost 
agonised, breath. 

About two feet from where she stood, and exactly 
in her path, was the black mouth of an uncovered well. 
Jane looked at it, and quite suddenly, she had no idea 
how, found herself sitting on the floor with hot wax 
running down her hand from the guttering candle. It 
245 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


seemed to be quite a little time before she could make 
sure of walking steadily enough to skirt the well. She 
went by it at last with averted head and fingers that, 
regardless of slime, clung to the wall. 

As she had expected, the passage ran suddenly into 
the main corridor. She passed the headland exit, and 
once more was on unknown ground. The passage 
swung round to the right and began to slope downhill. 
Jane held her candle high and looked at every step; 
but there were no more traps. She quickened her pace 
almost to a run as the dreadful thought came to her 
that Ember might follow Molloy. The passage sloped 
more and more. Finally there were steps, smooth, 
worn, and damp, that went down, and down, and down. 
At the bottom of the steps a yard or two of peculiarly 
slimy passage, and then a blank stone wall. Obviously 
Jane had arrived. 

She looked at the stone wall, and the stone wall 
presented a front of uncompromising blankness. She 
looked up and she looked down, she looked to the left 
and she looked to the right, she gazed at the ceiling and 
she gazed at the floor. Nowhere was there any sign of 
a catch, a knob, a spring, or a lever. There must be 
one, but where was it? She tapped the wall and 
stamped on the floor, but with no result. The door in 
the panelling opened from inside with an ordinary 
handle. She had not been close enough to Lady Heri¬ 
tage to see what she did to pivot the stone behind the 
bench on the headland. In any case, this exit might 
have been quite differently planned. 

A most dreadful sense of discouragement came over 
her. To have got so far, to have been, as it were, half¬ 
way to safety and Henry, and to have to turn back 
246 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


again! Then for the first time it occurred to her that, 
even if she had got out and got away, she had no money 
and no hat. She looked down at the maroon slippers, 
and pictured herself descending ticketless upon a 
London platform in bedroom slippers whose original 
colour was almost obscured by green slime. 

Jane wanted to laugh, and she wanted to cry. She 
did not know which she wanted most, but presently 
she found that the tears were running down her face. 
She kept winking them away, because it is not at all 
easy to climb slippery stone steps by the light of a 
guttering candle if your eyes keep filling with tears. 
The tears magnified the candle flame, and sometimes 
made it look like two or three little flames, which was 
dreadfully confusing. Jane stood still, wiped her eyes 
with determined energy, and then climbed up more 
steps and back along the way that she had come. 

At the headland exit she stood still, taking breath 
and thought. Nothing would induce her to pass that 
well again. She would keep to the main passage, and, 
horrid thought, she would have to put out her light in 
case Ember should suddenly emerge from the side 
passage. 

“ Thinking about things makes them worse, not 
better/’ said Jane to herself. “ It’s perfectly beastly; 
but then it’s all perfectly beastly.” 

She blew out the candle and moved slowly forward. 

It seemed ages before she came past the opening 
where she had run into Henry to the foot of the steps. 
She went up three steps, raised her foot to take the 
fourth, and felt a hardly perceptible check. Instantly 
she drew back a shade, set her foot down beside the 
other, and put out a tentative, groping hand. There 
247 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


was a thread of cotton stretched from wall to wall at 
the level of her waist. If her movements had been less 
gentle she would have brushed through it without 
noticing. Then, as she stood there thinking, the thread 
between her fingers, something else came to her. The 
last yard of passage just at the stair foot had felt 
different—dry, gritty. 

Jane descended the three steps backwards, and, 
crouching on the bottom one, put down her hand and 
felt the floor of the passage. There was sand on it, dry 
sand which had not been there when she came down, 
and in the dry sand her footprints would be clearly 
marked. Obviously Mr. Ember had his suspicions and 
his methods of verifying them: “ Though what on 
earth he’d make of cork soles I don’t know,” said 
Jane. She decided not to worry him with this 
problem. 

It was horribly dangerous, but she must have a 
light. She set her candle end on the step above 
her and struck a match. It made a noise like a 
squib and went out. She struck another and got the 
candle lighted. 

The sand was yellow sand off the beach, but nice and 
dry. Two and a half of her footprints showed plainly 
on its smooth surface. Jane leaned forward and 
smoothed them out. Then she blew out her candle and 
felt safer. Feeling for the thread of cotton, she crawled 
beneath it, then very, very slowly up the rest of the 
steps, her hand before her all the way till she came to 
the door in the panelling. She opened it and slipped 
through into the hall. 

The grey, uncertain light was filtering into it. Every¬ 
thing looked strange and cold. Jane closed the door, 
248 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


and never knew that a loose strand of cotton had fallen 
as she passed. Neither did she know that at that 
very moment Jeffrey Ember was standing by the open 
well mouth, the ray from his powerful electric torch 
focused upon a little patch of candle grease. 


249 


CHAPTER XXIII 


NTHONY LUTTRELL caught a slow local train 



^ ^ at Withstead—the sort of train that serves little 
country places all over England. It dawdled slowly 
from station to station, sometimes taking what 
appeared to be an unnecessary rest at a signal box as 
well. It finally reached Maxton ten minutes late, 
thereby missing the London express and leaving 
Anthony Luttrell with a two hours’ wait. 

Waiting just at present was about as congenial an 
occupation as being racked. He walked up and down 
with a dragging, restless step, and tried unsuccessfully 
to shut off his torturing thoughts behind a safety 
curtain. The time dragged intolerably. Presently he 
left the platform and went up on to the bridge which 
ran from one side of the station to the other. Here he 
began his pacing again, stopping every now and then 
to watch a train come in or a train go out. From the 
bridge one could see all the platforms. 

When an express rushed through, the whole structure 
shook and clouds of white steam blotted out every¬ 
thing. It was when the steam was clearing away, 
and the roar of the receding train was dying down, 
that Anthony noticed another local running in to the 
Withstead platform. He bent over the rail and 
watched the passengers get out—just a handful. There 
was a young woman with two children, two farmers, 
three or four nondescript women, and a big man with a 


250 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

suit-case. Anthony looked at the big man and went 
on looking at him. Something about him seemed 
vaguely familiar. The man came along the platform 
and began to mount the steps that led up to the bridge. 
Half-way up he put down his suit-case, took off his 
hat for a moment as if to cool himself, and stood 
there looking up. Then he replaced his hat, shifted 
the suit-case to the other hand, and came up the rest 
of the steps. He seemed hot. 

He passed Anthony and went down the steps on to 
the London platform. Anthony followed him. 

When the big man stood still and looked up, eight 
years were suddenly wiped out. Memory is a queer 
thing, and plays queer tricks. What Anthony’s 
memory did was to set him down in the year 1912, in 
the gallery of a hall in Chicago. There was a packed 
and rather vociferous audience. There was a big man 
on the platform, a big man who seemed hot. His 
speech was, in fact, of a sufficiently inflammatory 
nature to make any one feel hot. It breathed fire and 
fury. Its rolling eloquence must have involved a 
good deal of physical exertion. Suddenly, after a 
period, the speaker stopped and looked up at the 
gallery for applause. It came like a veritable cyclone. 
The meeting was subsequently broken up by the 
police. 

Anthony remembered that the speaker’s name was 
Molloy. If Mr. Molloy had come from Withstead, 
it occurred to Anthony that his destitution would 
probably be of interest. 

The London train was due in ten minutes. When it 
came in, Molloy got into a third-class carriage, and 
Anthony followed his example. 

251 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


It was at seven-thirty on Sunday morning that Mrs. 
March’s cook, who was sweeping the hall, was given 
what she afterwards described as a turn by the arrival 
of an odd-looking man who would give no name and 
insisted on seeing her master. 

“ Awful he looked with that ’orrid scar and his ’air 
that wild, and not giving me a chance to shut the door 
in his face, for he pushes in the moment I got it open— 
that’s what give me the worst turn of all—and walks 
into the dining-room as bold as brass, and says, 4 1 
want to see Captain March—and be quick, please.’ ” 

When Henry came into the dining-room he shut the 
door behind him very quickly and looked as if he also 
had had a turn. 

“ Good Lord, Tony, what’s happened?” he said. 

“ Nothing,” said Anthony, with nonchalance. 

“ Then in Heaven’s name, why are you here?” 

“ I’m through, that’s all. You can’t say I didn’t 
give notice.” 

“ It’s not a question of what I say, it’s what Piggy’ll 
say.” 

“ Oh, I’ve got a sop for Piggy. I’ve been doing the 
faithful sleuth. I’ve trailed a man from Withstead 
to a highly genteel boarding-house in South Kensing¬ 
ton; and as I last saw the gentleman addressing an 
I. W. W. meeting in Chicago, I imagine Piggy might 
be interested.” 

“ Who was it?” said Henry quickly. 

“ Molloy.” 

“ You’re sure?” 

“ Absolutely.” 

“ Good man. You’re in luck. Molloy, under the 
interesting alias of Bernier, has just been selling the 
' 252 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Government Formula ‘ A.’ He was trailed over here 
with the swag and then lost sight of. For a dead cert 
he’s been to Luttrell Marches by the back way and 
seen Ember.” 

Anthony turned away. 

“ There’s the devil to pay down there,” he said. . . . 
“ No, no, the girl’s all right. . . . This is something 
I ought to have told you when you were down. I ought 
to have told you the whole thing. I couldn’t bring 
myself to.” 

“ Sit down, Tony. What is it?” 

“No, I can’t sit.” He walked to the window and 
stood there, looking out. His hands made restless 
movements. He spoke, keeping his back to Henry: 

“ You didn’t go through all the passages?” 

“ No, I was going to to-night.” 

“ I ought to have told you. The big place under 
the terrace, you know—they’ve turned it into a labora¬ 
tory. Molloy may have been working there, for all I 
know; he had the name of an expert chemist.” 

“ Yes, go on.” 

“ You’d have found it yourself to-night, but I 
couldn’t let you go blundering in unwarned. Ember 
might be there—any one might be there. It’s damn¬ 
able, Henry, but I believe she’s up to her neck in it.” 

Henry was silent. There seemed to be nothing to 
say. He also believed that Raymond Heritage was 
up to her neck in whatever secret enterprise was being 
developed at Luttrell Marches. He remembered the 
passion in her voice when she said, “ I should like to 
smash it all,” and he remembered how she had sung, 
“ Would we not shatter it to bits, and then re-mould 
it nearer to the heart’s desire?” Whatever the thing 
253 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

was, he believed she was in it up to her neck. So he 
was silent, and Anthony was grateful for his silence. 

, The silence was broken by a tapping, and a rustling, 
and the turning of a handle. The door opened very 
abruptly, and Mrs. de Luttrelle March made a pre¬ 
cipitous entrance. She wore a pink silk n£glig6 and 
a boudoir cap embroidered in forget-me-nots, also an 
expression of extreme terror—the cook’s description 
of their early visitor having prepared her to find 
Henry’s corpse stretched upon the hearth-rug. When 
a living and annoyed Henry confronted her, she clung 
to his arm and gazed round-eyed at the long, thin 
man who had swung round at her entrance. Un¬ 
certainty succeeded fear. Henry was saying, “ Do 
go back to your room, Mother,” but it is doubtful 
whether she heard him. 

Gradually her grasp of his arm relaxed. She walked 
slowly across the room, and stared with horrified 
amazement at Anthony. 

He looked over her head at Henry, shrugged his 
shoulders just perceptibly, and made as if to turn 
back to the window again. Either that shrug, or the 
faintly sarcastic lift of the eyebrows that accompanied 
it, brought a sort of broken gasp to Mrs. March’s lips. 
She put out her hand, touched his coat sleeve with her 
finger-tips, and said: 

“ Anthony—it’s Anthony—oh, Henry, it’s Anthony! ” 

She backed a little at each repetition of the name, 
looked wildly round, and sinking on to the nearest 
chair, burst into tears. 

“ Henry—oh, please somebody speak,” she sobbed. 

“ It’s all right, Aunt Rosa. I’m not a ghost,” said 
Anthony in his driest voice. 

254 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Henry experienced a cold dread of what his mother 
would say next. She had talked so much and thought 
so incessantly of Luttrell Marches. Latterly she had 
been so sure of Henry’s ownership, and so proud of it. 
What would she say now—as she dropped her hands 
from her face and gazed with streaming eyes at 
Anthony, who regarded her quizzically? 

“ Tony, you’re so dreadfully changed. That fearful 
scar—oh, my dear, where have you been all this time? 
We thought you were dead. I don’t know how I 
recognised you. And you were such a pretty little 
boy, my dear. I used to be jealous because you had 
longer eyelashes than Henry, but you haven’t now.” 

“Haven’t I?” said Anthony, with perfect gravity. 
He took his aunt’s plump white hand and gave it a 
squeeze and a pat. “ It’s very nice of you to welcome 
me, Aunt Rosa. The scar isn’t as bad as it looks, and 
Henry’s going to lend me a razor and some clothes.” 

It was later, when Anthony could be heard splash¬ 
ing in the bathroom, that Mrs. March beckoned Henry 
into her room, flung her arms round his neck, and 
burst into tears all over again. 

“ My poor boy,” she sobbed, “ it’s so hard on you 
—about Luttrell Marches, I mean—do you mind 
dreadfully?” 

“Not an atom. Besides, I knew Tony was alive; 
I always told you he would turn up.” 

“ I couldn’t think of any one but him at first,” said 
Mrs. March, sniffing gently. “Then afterwards it 
came over me Henry won’t have the place—and I 
couldn’t help crying because, of course, one does get 
to count on a thing, with every one saying to me as they 
did, 4 Of course your son comes into Luttrell Marches, 
255 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

such a beautiful place/—and so it is, and I did think 
it was yours, and what I felt about it was, if I feel badly 
about it, what must Henry feel? You see, don't you?” 

Henry endeavoured to disengage himself. 

“ Yes, Mother, but you needn’t worry—you really 
needn’t. Look here, you dress and don’t cry any more. 
I’ve got to telephone.” 

Mrs. March clasped her hands about his arm. 

“ Henry, wait, just a minute,” she said. “ That 
Miss Smith—you’re not still thinking about her, are 
you?” 

Henry laughed. 

“ I am,” he said. 

“ Well-” said Mrs. March. She fidgeted with 

Henry’s coat sleeve, bridled a little, and looked down 
at her mauve satin slippers. “Well—you know, my dear 
boy, I didn’t want to be unkind, but I simply couldn’t 
picture her at Luttrell Marches—as its mistress, I 
mean and I’m sure you did think me unkind about 
it; but now that it’s all different—Tony coming back 
like this does make a difference, of course, and what I 
was going to say about it is this. If you really do care 
for her and it would make up to you for the disappoint¬ 
ment, I wouldn’t hold out about it, not if you really 
wanted it, my dear, and really cared for her, only of 
course you’d have to be quite sure, because once you’re 
married you’re married, and there’s no way out of it 
except divorce, and, whether it’s the fashion now or not, 

I always have said and always will say, that it’s not re¬ 
spectable, it really isn’t, and it’s not a thing we’ve ever 
had in our family—not on either side,” added Mrs. 
March thoughtfully, after a slight pause for breath. 

“ I really do care for her, and I really am sure,” said 
256 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Henry. He kissed his mother affectionately, and once 
more attempted to detach himself from her hold. 

Mrs. March let go with one hand in order to dab her 
eyes with a scrap of pink-and-white chiffon. Then she 
looked up at her son fondly. 

“ Your eyelashes are much the longest,” she said. 

Henry made an abrupt departure. 

“ Piggy’ll see you as soon as you can get there,” he 
told Anthony five minutes later—“ at his house. I’m 
off to Luttrell Marches. I was going down anyhow 
to-night, but, things being as they are, I think I’ll get 
a move on. Piggy’s sending some one to the address 
you gave, to keep an eye on Molloy. He doesn’t want 
him arrested yet, as he’s in hopes that Belcovitch will 
roll up—that’s the other man concerned in the actual 
sale of the formula. He went to Vienna, but was in 
Paris yesterday. Good Lord, Tony, I’m glad you’ve 
got rid of that beastly beard!” 


257 


CHAPTER XXIV 


S IR JULIAN LE MESURIER’S study was an 
extremely pleasant room, friendly with books, 
and comforted by admirable chairs. 

A Sabbath peace reigned outside in the deserted 
street. Within there was no peace at all. A crocodile 
hunt was in progress. Piggy, as a large and very fierce 
crocodile, was performing a feat described by himself 
as “ trailing his sinuous length ” across the floor, his 
objective a Persian carpet island upon which a small 
fat girl of three in a fluffy Sunday dress was lifting 
first one plump foot and then the other, whilst at 
regular intervals she uttered small but piercing screams. 
Upon the crocodile’s back sat a thin, determined little 
boy of six who battered continuously upon the croco¬ 
dile’s ribs with the heels of a new pair of boots, whilst 
he shouted his defiance at the foe. At the far end of the 
room sat Lady Le Mesurier with a book. At intervals 
she looked up from it to say helplessly, “ Piggy, it’s 
Sunday”—or “ Baby’s got a new frock on, and I 
expect nurse will give notice if you tear it.” 

“ Not tear,” said the fat little girl, patting her skirts. 
Then she shrieked, for the crocodile made a sudden 
snap at the nearest ankle. 

Upon this scene the door opened. 

“ Mr. Luttrell,” said an expressionless voice, and 
Anthony entered. 

Lady Le Mesurier gathered her baby and her book, 
258 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


the crocodile unseated the small boy and arose, dusting 
its trousers. A well-trained family vanished, and Sir 
Julian shook hands and waved his visitor to a chair. 

“ Come up to report?” said Piggy. 

“ Not primarily,” began Anthony, but was cut short. 

“ You followed Molloy. Yes, I think I prefer to have 
it that way, if you don’t mind. You followed Molloy 
to this South Kensington address. How do you know 
he’s stopping there?” 

“ I asked the servant who was cleaning the knocker 
whether they had a room, and she said, ‘ No ’—that 
the gentleman who had just come in made them quite 
full up.” 

“ Well, I’ve sent a man to watch the place. Now, 
what have you to report from Luttrell Marches?” 

Anthony looked straight over Sir Julian’s shoulder 
with a hard, level gaze, and spoke in a hard, forced 
voice: 

“ There are a number of secret passages and cham¬ 
bers under the house at Luttrell Marches. One of the 
passages has an exit outside the grounds on the sea¬ 
shore about a mile and a half from Withstead. The 
secret has been very carefully preserved until now. 
Each successive owner told his heir. No one else was 
supposed to know. My father told me. When he 
thought that I was dead, he also told my cousin, 
Henry March. Until I went to Luttrell Marches the 
other day I had no idea that any one else had discov¬ 
ered the secret. I have to report that the passages have 
not only been discovered, but made use of in a way 
which points to something of an illegal nature. One of 
the chambers is a fair-sized one: it has been turned into 
a laboratory-” 


259 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Any sign that it has been used as such?” 

“ Every sign. Power has been diverted from the 
dynamos which were installed for the Government 
experiments and the passages have been wired, and 
some of the chambers fitted with electric light. The 
whole thing has been going on under Sir William’s very 
nose.” 

“ M’, I’ve had him here to see me—terribly gone to 
pieces, quite past his job, also very much annoyed with 
me for having sent Henry down. Now the question 
is, who’s been wiring the passages and using the 
laboratory?” 

“ Oh, Ember; there’s no doubt about that, I think.” 

“ And the sale of the formula? Ember?” 

“ I’m sure of it.” 

“ Must have proof. No earthly good my being sure, 
or your being sure, or Henry’s being sure. We’ve got 
to have something so solid that, after Sir Dash Blank, 
K.C., has done his best to tear it into shreds, what’s 
left of it will convince a jury. Now who else is in it 
besides Ember and Molloy? In the household, I 
mean, down there at Luttrell Marches? Any one 
else?” 

Anthony continued to look over Sir Julian’s shoul¬ 
der. He remained silent. Piggy got up and walked to 
his writing-table. When he reached it he swung round, 
and asked again sharply: 

“Any one else, Luttrell?” 

There was still silence. Then Piggy said dryly: 

“I take it that there is somebody else involved. I 
don’t wish to cross-examine you, but I must know one 
thing. Is it suspicion, moral certainty, or proof?” 

“Moral certainty,” said Anthony Luttrell. He 
260 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

passed his tongue across his dry lips. Piggy did not 
look at him. 

“ Now, look here,” he said, “ it seems to me that 
Luttrell Marches is about to be the centre of some 
unpleasant happenings. I think, I rather think, it 
would be advisable to induce any ladies who may be 
there to leave the place. Lady Heritage is there, is 
she not, and er, er, Miss . . .?” 

“ Miss Molloy.” 

“ Exactly. Miss—er, Molloy. Now I consider that 
these two ladies should leave at once. When I say 
at once I mean to-day. I should like you to go 
down—by car, of course, there won’t be any Sunday 
trains—and er, fetch them away, using such induce¬ 
ments and persuasions as you may think expedient. 
Only they must leave. You understand, they must 
leave to-day.” 

Anthony rose stiffly. 

“ I’m afraid, sir,” he said, “ that I must decline the 
responsibility. The reasons which made me leave 
Luttrell Marches make it impossible for me to return 
there.” 

“ I see,” said Piggy. He picked up a piece of india- 
rubber, and occupied himself for about a minute and a 
half in endeavouring to balance it upon the edge of a 
handsome brass inkstand with an inscription on it. 
When the indiarubber fell into the ink with a splash 
he fished it out, using a pen with a sharp nib as a gaff, 
dried it carefully on a new sheet of white blotting- 
paper, and turned again to Anthony. 

“ I’d like just to put a hypothetical case to you,” 
he said. “ Government puts a certain very important 
and confidential piece of work into the hands of an 
261 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

eminent man, a man of European reputation and 
unblemished probity. Evidence comes to hand of 
things entirely incompatible with the secrecy and 
other conditions which were an honourable obligation. 
Worse suspicions of illegality and conspiracy. Cumu¬ 
lative evidence. Arrests. A public trial. Now, my 
dear Luttrell, can you tell me what would happen 
to the Government which had displayed such incom¬ 
petence as, first, to commit a vital undertaking to a 
person capable of betraying it; and second, of per¬ 
mitting the consequent scandal to become public 
property in such a manner as to make this country a 
laughing-stock in the eyes of the world? It’s not a 
question that requires a great deal of answering, 
is it?” 

“ Sir William is not involved,” said Anthony harshly. 

“ My dear Luttrell, I was putting a hypothetical 
case. But if you wish to talk without camouflage 
I will do so—for five minutes. I will do so because I 
consider that the situation is one of the most serious 
which I have ever had to deal with. Sir William is not 
involved, but Sir William has become incompetent 
to control his household and incapable of perceiving 
that a dangerous conspiracy is being carried on under 
his roof. It’s not only the matter of the stolen formula. 
Your report of a hidden laboratory certainly tends to 
corroborate the very grave allegations made by Miss 
Molloy. A situation so entirely serious justifies me 
in demanding the sacrifice of your personal feelings 
and inclinations. I repeat, Lady Heritage and Miss 
Molloy must leave Luttrell Marches to-day. I don’t 
care what inducements you use. They must leave. 
I believe you can get them to leave. I don’t believe 
262 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

any one else can. I am detaining Sir William in town 
—it was not difficult to do so. What more natural 
than that his daughter should join him. My wife is 
expecting Miss Smith to pay us a visit. There must 
be no delay of any kind. You understand, Luttrell?” 

There was a short tense pause. 

Anthony stood as he had been standing during all 
the time that Sir Julian talked. He looked moodily 
out of the window. Now and then his face twitched, 
now and then he moved his hands with a sort of jerk. 
At last he said in a constrained voice: 

“ I—understand.” 

“ Very well,” said Piggy briskly. “ Then you’d 
better be off. From the fact that you have shaved and 
returned to civilised raiment, I imagine that George 
Patterson is now obsolete, and# that Mr. Luttrell has 
ceased to be a corpse in some unknown grave?” 

“ Yes, I’ve come back.” A pause—then, “ Sir 
Julian—this—this duty is particularly unwelcome. If 
I undertake it, will you send me abroad again as soon 
as possible? England is distasteful, impossible—but, 
of course, I realise that I couldn’t go on being dead— 
there are too many legal complications, and it wasn’t 
fair on Henry.” 

“ Henry,” observed Piggy, “ was becoming the 
object of most particular attentions from match¬ 
making mammas. My wife informs me that his 
stock has been very high for some months past. 
Gilt-edged, in fact. I’m afraid there will be a slump 
as soon as your resurrection is established. Henry, 
I think, will bear up. Well now, about sending you 
abroad—I can’t say for certain, but I rather think it 
could be managed, if you still wish it, you know. I 
263 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


wouldn’t be in a hurry, if I were you, Luttrell, about 
going abroad, but as to the matter in hand—well, 
hurry is the word. You’ll find a car outside with 
Inspector Davison. Take him along. I hope he 
won’t be needed, but—well—take him along.” 


264 


CHAPTER XXV 


M R. EMBER was spending a busy Sunday. As 
he stood in the empty laboratory, realising 
Molloy’s defection and all that it involved, there was 
no change in his impassive face. The web of his plan 
was broken. Like some accurate machine his brain 
picked up the loose ravelled threads and wove them 
into a new combination. 

Molloy himself was no loss. His place could be 
filled a dozen times over. As to any harm that he 
could do, unless he had gone straight to the police, he 
could be reached—reached and silenced. And Ember 
knew his Molloy. He would not go straight to the 
police. If he meant to sell them, he would set about it 
with a certain regard for appearances. There would 
be pourparlers , some dexterous method of approach 
which would save his face and leave him an emergency 
exit. Ember checked over in his mind the four or five 
places to which Molloy might have retreated. Then 
there was the money. That they must have; but 
Molloy, once found, could be scared into giving 
it up. 

Ember let his eyes travel around the laboratory. 
The lists lay upon the bench where Jane had put them 
not five minutes before. He frowned and picked them 
up, stared at them, and frowned more deeply still. 
They had been folded and refolded, doubled into a 
265 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

small package since he had last handled them. Who 
had done it? The sheets had been smooth from the 
typewriter when he gave them to Molloy. They had 
been handled and creased, with the creases that come 
from tight folding. Had Molloy meant to take them 
with him, and then at the last moment been afraid? 
It looked like it. He turned over the pages, counting 
them. Suddenly his eyes fixed, his fingers tightened 
their hold. There was a fresh smudge of ink on the 
top of the fifth page—a smudge so fresh that the blue 
ink had not yet turned black. That meant two 
things: Molloy had copied the lists before he left, and 
he had only been gone an hour or two—that at the 
outside, probably less. 

In the moment that passed before Ember laid the 
papers down, Mr. Molloy received his death sentence 
as duly and irrevocably as if it had been pronounced 
by an Assize Judge in scarlet and ermine, white wig 
and black cap. 4 

Ember gave just a little nod, opened a safe that stood 
in the corner, pushed the papers into it, and pocketed 
the key. 

It was a little later that he found the first spot 
of candle grease. It was half-way up one of 
the side passages, on the spot where Jane had 
been standing when he and Molloy entered the 
laboratory the evening before. He looked at it for 
a long time very thoughtfully before he took his 
torch and proceeded to a systematic search of the 
passages. 

He found no living person, but came upon dropped 
wax in three more places, at the edge of the well, by 
the headland exit, and half-way down the steps to the 
266 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

beach. He came slowly back along the main passage, 
and stood for some time with his light focused on the 
sand which he had spread at the foot of the stair. 
There was no footmark upon it, but he was prepared 
to swear that it was not as he had left it. He had 
scattered the sand loosely, and it was pressed down and 
too smooth. He thought that it had been smoothed 
by a hand passing over it. He mounted the first two 
steps. The thread of cotton which he had fastened 
across the stairway was still there. He bent beneath 
it, came to the top, and threw his light full upon the 
back of the panelled door. The second piece of cotton 
was gone. 

He flashed the ray upon the floor once—twice. The 
third time he found what he was looking for, a fine 
black thread lying across the threshold. It ran out 
of sight under the door. Some one had gone out 
that way since Mr. Ember had come in. Who? 
Not Molloy—impossible that it could have been 
Molloy. 

Ember passed through the panel, closed it behind 
him, and walked slowly and meditatively along the cor¬ 
ridor to the library, still pursuing his train of thought. 
Molloy would have blundered through that first piece 
of cotton without ever feeling it at all, just as Molloy’s 
foot in its heavy boot would have been unaware of the 
sand. If it was a woman who had passed—now who 
would have used a candle in the passages? Not 
Raymond. She had more than one electric torch which 
she used constantly for night work. But Renata, the 
little soft-spoken stupid mouse of a thing, if she had a 
fancy to go spying, she’d take a candle; yes, and let it 
gutter too. 


267 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Mr. Ember’s instinct for danger had always reacted 
to this question of Renata Molloy. Over and over 
again there had been the tremor, the response, the 
warning prick. An extreme regret that he had not 
arranged for a convenient accident to overtake Renata 
possessed Jeffrey Ember. The omission, he decided, 
should be rectified with as little delay as possible. 
He locked the library door and went to the 
telephone. 

It took him half an hour to get the number that he 
wanted, but he betrayed no impatience. When at last 
a man’s voice came to him, along the wire, he inquired 
in the Bavarian dialect, “ Is that you, Number Five?” 
The voice said, “ Yes,” whereupon Ember gave a pass¬ 
word and waited until he had received the countersign. 
He then began to issue orders, using an unhurried 
voice. Every now and then he shivered a little in the 
early morning cold, and shrugged his coat higher about 
his ears. 

“ You are promoted. You go up to Four and come 
on to the Council. I will notify you of the next 
meeting. Number Three is a traitor. He left here 
last night with copies of lists containing names of 
all agents. It is believed that it is his design to 
sell us. He has secreted a large sum of money, the 
property of the Council. Before he is eliminated 
he must be made to hand this over. Take down 
the following addresses; he may be at any one of 
them. Put Six and Seven on to finding and dealing 
with him immediately.” He read out the addresses, 
and paused whilst they were repeated. He then con¬ 
tinued speaking: 

“ I shall require the motor-boat off Withstead Cove 
268 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


at nightfall. Yes, to-night, and without fail. A 
change of base is imperative. Proceed first to . . 

—he gave another address—“ and communicate 
also with Ten. If Belcovitch has arrived tell 
him that he is promoted to Three, and bring him with 
you. The Council can then meet, as Number One 
is here.” 

A very slight gleam of something hard to define 
broke for a moment the dull impassivity of Ember’s 
voice as he pronounced the last words. Then he 
added: 

“ Repeat my instructions.” 

He listened attentively whilst the voice reproduced 
his own words. Then he said: 

“ That is all. We shall meet to-night,” and rang 
off. 

He had breakfast alone with Jane, and ate it with a 
good appetite. He talked very pleasantly too. Jane 
wondered why every succeeding moment left her more 
afraid. She had been up all night, of course. It 
must be that, yes, of course, it must be that. She 
faltered in the middle of some inane sentence and 
stopped. Ember’s eyes were fixed on her with an 
entire lack of expression, yet behind those blank 
windows she felt that there were strange guests. 
It was like looking at the windows of a haunted 
house, quite blank and empty, and yet at any 
moment out of them might look some unimaginable 
horror. 

“ You seem a little tired this morning, Miss Renata,” 
said Ember gently. “ Why didn’t you follow Lady 
Heritage’s example and have your breakfast upstairs? 
You don’t look to me as if you had had much sleep. 

269 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


You haven’t been walking in your sleep again by any 
chance, have you?” 

Jane clenched her foot in Renata’s baggy shoe. 

“ Oh, I hope I haven’t,” she said. “ I don’t always 
know when I’ve been doing it. What made you think 
of it?” 

“ It just crossed my mind,” said Ember. “ It’s a 
very dangerous habit, Miss Renata.” 

Jane pushed her chair back and rose. 

“ I’m going into the garden,” she said; “ this 
room is too hot for anything. It’s like ...” A 
little devil suddenly commandeered her tongue. 
She reached the door, opened it, and flung over her 
shoulder: 

“It’s like the snake house at the Zoo, Mr. 
Ember.” 

She ran straight out into the garden after that, and 
stayed there. She had the feeling that it was safer to 
be in the open. She wanted to keep away from walls, 
and doors, and passages. She saw no one all the 
morning, and came back to lunch with her nerve 
steadier. As soon as lunch was over, she went out 
again. The hour in the house had brought her fears 
back with reinforcements. She began to count the 
hours before Henry could arrive. It was only half¬ 
past two, and perhaps he would not come till 
midnight. 

The thought of the dark hours after sunset was like 
a black cloud coming nearer and nearer. If she could 
hide, if she could only get away and hide until Henry 
came. She felt as if it was quite beyond her to go 
back into the house and sit for hour after hour, perhaps 
alone with Jeffrey Ember, his blank eyes watching 
270 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

her, or to endure Raymond Heritage’s presence, 
and, looking at her, remember the line in Molloy’s 
letter: “ Renata followed Number One.” It was 
Raymond she had followed. She had told Molloy 
that she had followed Raymond. Then Raymond, 
beyond doubt or cavil, was the Number One of 
that horrible Council. She could not bear it. She 
thought of Raymond’s voice breaking when she said 
“ Anthony,” and she could not bear it. If she could 
only get away and hide until Henry came. 

She went into the walled garden and walked up and 
down. Perhaps Anthony Luttrell would come to her 
as he had come once before. Presently she came to 
the tool-shed, stopped for a moment hesitating on the 
threshold, and then went in. There was a way into 
the passages from here; she was quite sure of it. 
If she could find the spring, she believed that she 
would be able to reach the cross-passage where she had 
run into Henry. She did not believe that Ember used 
it. Why should he, since it would be of no use to his 
schemes? If she could get into the passage and hide 
there, she need not go back to the house. She could 
wait there for Henry and catch him as he passed. 
She would be able to warn him too, and it came to her 
with startling suddenness that he stood very much 
in need of warning; so much had come to light in the 
forty-eight hours since he left. 

It took Jane an hour to find the spring. She might 
not have found it then, but for the chance that made 
her slip and throw all her weight upon one place just 
under the wide potting-shelf. There was a creak, 
and one of the boards gave a little. She found a trap¬ 
door and steps beneath it. 

271 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


There were some old sacks in the shed. Jane took 
one of them, climbed down the steps, and shut the 
trap-door again. She felt her way down to the level, 
spread the sack on the second step, and sat down. 
She felt utterly forlorn and weary. 


272 


CHAPTER XXVI 


M R. EMBER, having completed all his arrange¬ 
ments, went in search of Lady Heritage. 
She had sat silently through lunch and disappeared 
directly afterwards. Having failed to find her down¬ 
stairs, Ember was about to pass along the upper 
corridor to the steel gate which shut off the north wing, 
when he noticed that the door of the small Oak Room 
on his left was standing ajar. He thought he heard a 
movement within, and, after pausing for a moment to 
listen, he pushed the door wide and looked in. As 
far as his knowledge went, Lady Heritage had never 
entered this room during the time that they had been 
in the house. He accepted the fact and could have 
stated the reasons for it. It had been the playroom, 
and the walls were covered with Anthony LuttrelPs 
school groups. The book shelves held his books, the 
cabinets his collections. In a very intimate sense it 
was his room. 

Raymond Heritage stood at the far end of it now. 
She wore a dress of soft white wool bound with a 
plaited girdle from the ends of which heavy tassels 
swung. She had taken one of the groups from the wall 
and was looking at it with an intensity which closed 
her thought to all other impressions. She stood half 
turned from the door. Ember looked at her and, 
looking, experienced some strange sensations. This 
was Raymond Carr-Magnus, a younger, softer, lovelier 
273 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


woman than Raymond Heritage. The curious cold 
something, like transparent glass or very thin ice, 
which seemed to wall her from her fellows, was gone. 
It was as if the ice had dissolved leaving the air misty 
and tremulous. 

The little flame which always burned in him took on 
brightness and intensity, and a second flame sprang 
up beside it, a flame that burned to a still white heat 
of anger because this change, this softening, was for 
Anthony Luttrell and not for Jeffrey Ember. 

There was no sign of emotion, however, in face or 
expression as he moved slightly and said: 

“ Are you busy? May I speak to you for a few 
minutes?” 

It was characteristic of Raymond that she did not 
appear in the least startled. She turned quite slowly, 
laid the photograph on the open front of the bureau 
by which she stood, and said: 

“ Now? Do you want me now?” A softness was 
in her voice as she spoke, and a dream in her eyes. 

Her beauty struck Ember as a thing seen for the first 
time. He had to use great force to keep his answer on 
a note of indifference. 

“ If you can spare the time,” he said. 

Raymond looked round her. There was a caressing 
quality in her glance. 

“ Yes; I’ll come downstairs,” she said. 

This was Anthony’s room. She would not talk to 
another man in Anthony’s room. The thought may 
have been in her mind. The breath of it beat on 
Ember’s flames and fanned them higher still. He led 
the way downstairs and into Sir William’s study. 

Raymond Heritage had passed from the despairing 
274 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


mood of her first interview with Anthony. Then to 
know him alive and to feel him unforgiving had stabbed 
her to the quick. But that phase had passed. During 
the many hours that she had spent alone the one amaz¬ 
ing radiant thought that he was alive had come to 
dominate everything. The cold finality of death had 
been lifted. Instead of a blank wall, there opened 
before her an infinite number of ways, any one of 
which might lead her back to her lost happiness. She 
began to live in the past, to go over the old times, to 
make a dream her companion. 

She came into the study with Ember and waited to 
hear what he wanted, giving him just that surface 
attention which he recognised and resented. His first 
words were meant to startle her. 

“ Lady Heritage,” he said, “ you know, of course, 
that there are certain passages and rooms under this 
house?” 

She did start a little, he thought. Certainly her 
attention deepened. 

“ Who told you that, Jeffrey?” she said, and hardly 
heard her own voice because Anthony’s rang in her ears 
insisting, “ I know that you told Ember.” 

“ Mr. Luttrell told me,” said Ember. 

She exclaimed incredulously. At least her thoughts 
were not wandering now. Ember felt a certain 
triumph as he realised it. He went on speaking quite 
quietly: 

“ It was when Sir William and I were down here the 
year before Mr. Luttrell died. He, Mr. Luttrell, was 
taken very ill and I sat up with him. In the night he 
was delirious. It was obvious that he had something 
on his mind. He began to talk about the passages and 
275 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


to say that the secret must not be lost. He took me 
for his nephew Henry March, and nothing would serve 
him but he must show me the entrance in the hall. He 
got out of bed, and was so much excited that I thought 
it best to give way. When he had shown me the spring 
he calmed down and went quietly back to bed. In the 
morning he had forgotten all about it.” 

Raymond listened, frowning. 

“ Why do you tell me this?” she said. “ I knew 
Mr. Luttrell had told Henry.” 

“ Henry March knows?” said Ember. 

“ Yes, I think so. Yes, I’m sure he does. Why, 
Jeffrey?” 

Ember was too busy with his thoughts to speak for 
a moment. What an appalling risk they had run. If 
Henry March knew of the passages, then they had been 
on the very brink of the abyss all along. He spoke at 
last, very seriously: 

“ I want you to come down with me into the passages 
if you will. There’s something I want to show you— 
something which I think you ought to know.” 

“ Something wrong?” 

“ I think you ought to see for yourself. I’d rather 
not say any more if you don’t mind. I’ll show you 
what I mean. I really think you ought to come and 
see for yourself. This is a good time, as the servants 
are safely out of the way and Miss Molloy seems to 
have taken herself off.” 

“ Very well, I’ll come. I must get a cloak though, 
or I shall get into such a mess. Those passages simply 
cover one with slime.” 

Ember stood still with his hand on the half-opened 
door. 


276 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ You’ve been down there?” 

“ Why, yes, once or twice.” 

“ Lately?” His voice was rather low. 

“ Yes, quite lately.” 

Ember gripped the door. 

“ And how did you know—oh, I beg your pardon.” 

“ Yes, I don’t think we need go into that.” She 
spoke gently but from a distance. As she spoke she 
passed him and went through the hall and up the stairs. 
The heavy tassels of her girdle knocked softly against 
each shallow step. 

Ember went on gripping the door until she came 
down again wrapped in a long black cloak. When he 
dropped his hand there was a red incised line across 
the palm. He saw that the cloak was smeared with 
green. How near to the edge they had been, how 
horribly near! 

He opened the door and lighted her down the steps 
in silence, and in silence walked as far as the labora¬ 
tory turning. When he turned to the left and flashed 
his light ahead of them, Raymond spoke: 

“ I’ve never been along that passage,” she said. “ I 
know there are holes in some of them, and I’ve never 
liked the look of these side tunnels.” 

“ This one’s quite safe,” said Ember, and led the 
way. 

Jane heard the murmur of their voices, and for a 
moment saw the faint glow of the light. Then the 
glow and the voices died again. It was dark, she was 
alone, she was cold, she wanted Henry, oh, how she 
wanted Henry. 

At that moment Jane’s idea of Paradise was to be 
able to put her head down on Henry’s shoulder and 
277 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

cry. It was not, perhaps, a very exalted idea, but it 
was very insistent. 

When Ember switched on the light, swung open the 
steel gate, and stood aside for her to pass, Lady 
Heritage uttered a sharp exclamation. 

“ Jeffrey, what’s this?” she said. 

“ That is what I wanted you to see,” replied Ember. 

She crossed the threshold, walked a pace or two into 
the room, and looked around her with eyes from which 
all dreaminess had vanished. Bewilderment took its 
place. 

“ Who did this? What does it mean?” she asked. 

Ember did not answer her until he too was within 
the chamber. He pushed the steel gate with his hand 
and it fell to with a clang. 

“ It is, as you see, a well-equipped laboratory,” 
he said—“ worth coming to see, I think.” 

“ Yes, but, Jeffrey-” 

“ You are interested? I thought you would be; 
won’t you sit down?” 

She looked about her with puzzled eyes. 

“ Do sit,” said Ember in his quiet, friendly way. 
“ You will find this chair more comfortable than the 
benches.” 

He brought it forward as he spoke—a high-backed 
chair with arms. It struck her then as a curious 
piece of furniture to find in a laboratory. 

“ Brought here on purpose for you,” said Ember. 

But Raymond did not sit. Instead she rested her 
hands lightly on the back of the chair, and, looking 
across it, said: 

“ Jeffrey, what does all this mean?” 

“ I’m going to tell you,” said Ember seriously. “ I 
278 



ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


have brought you here to tell you, only I wish you 
would sit down.” 

“ No, thank you. Jeffrey, what is this place?” 

“ A laboratory,” said Ember. “ As you see, a 
laboratory, and the scene of some extremely interest¬ 
ing experiments.” 

“ Carried out by you?” 

“ Carried out by me . . . and some others.” 

“You have brought other people in here? Jeffrey, 
I think that was inexcusable.” 

“ I have not yet attempted to excuse myself.” 

For a moment his eyes met hers. She saw something, 
a spark, a flash, from the flames within. It was her 
first hint that there was, or could be, a flame there at 
all. It startled her in just the same degree that an 
actual spark touching her flesh would have startled 
her—not more. 

He spoke again at once. 

“ Just now I called this place a laboratory. If I 
were a poet ”—he laughed easily—“ I might have used 
another word. I might have said, c This is the crucible 
out of which has come the new Philosopher’s Stone.’ ” 

Raymond lifted her eyebrows. 

“ You’ve not been touched by that mediaeval 
dream?” she said. “This is the twentieth century, 
Jeffrey.” 

“ Yes,” said Ember slowly. “ Yes, the twentieth 
century, and I said . . . ‘ a new Philosopher’s Stone.’ 
The mediaeval alchemists dreamed of something that 
would turn all it touched to gold, that would transmute 
the baser metals. I have found something which will 
touch this base civilisation, this rotten fabric with 
which we have surrounded ourselves, and dissolve 
279 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


it. And when it is in solution there will be gold and 
to spare.” 

“ What do you mean?” said Lady Heritage. 

Ember met her frown with a smile. 

“ Was it a week ago that I heard you say, ‘ If I 
could smash it all ’? And didn’t you sing: 

“ ‘ Ah Love, could you and I with Fate conspire 
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, 

Would we not shatter it to bits, and then 
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire? ’ 

You sang that as if you meant it, Raymond. You 
sang it with all your heart in your beautiful voice. 
Well, Fate has conspired for you and given this sorry 
scheme of things into your hands to shatter—to 
shatter and re-mould.” 

Raymond had been leaning a little forward over 
the back of the chair, touching it lightly. She 
straightened herself when Ember used her name, and 
looked at him with a sort of grave displeasure. He 
laughed a little. 

“ Do you begin to understand?” he said. 

“ I don’t think, Jeffrey, that I want to understand,” 
said Lady Heritage. 

“ How like a woman,” said Mr. Ember. “ Here is 
what you cried out for. Here is opportunity, power, 
the greatest adventure that ever has been or ever 
will be, and you are afraid to face it. I offer you 
the throne of the world—and you don’t wish to 
understand.” 

The extreme quiet of his voice was in sharp contra¬ 
diction to the flamboyant words. Raymond looked 
at him in some anxiety. 


280 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ You’re not well,” she began, and then stopped 
before the sarcasm of his glance. 

“ I’m not mad,” he said. “ This is a business 
proposition. You’ve had poetry, but I can give you 
prose if you prefer it. I have discovered something— 
I won’t at this moment go into details—which enables 
me to smash up civilisation as you’d smash a rotten 
egg. Every city, every town of the so-called civilised 
world is accounted for, divided amongst my agents. 
They only await my signal. Those alone whom we 
mark for survival will survive, the rest are elimin¬ 
ated. Remains a world at our disposal to recreate. 
In that world I am supreme—and you. Is that plain 
enough?” 

Her face showed deep distress and concern. 

“ Jeffrey, indeed you’re not well,” she repeated. 

“ Am I not?” 

He came a step towards her and saw her draw back, 
as it were, involuntarily. “ Have I not made you 
understand yet? Perhaps a little documentary evi¬ 
dence will assist you?” He took a quick step towards 
her, looked at her full, and said in a different voice, 
“ Raymond, I’m in dead earnest—dead sober earnest.” 
Then with a sudden movement he turned away and 
went across to the safe in the far corner of the 
chamber. With his back to Raymond he unlocked it, 
and occupied himself for a minute or two with the 
picking out of some papers. When he turned she 
was at the gate with her hand on it. He spoke at 
once in his most ordinary voice: 

“ That’s a safety-catch. It won’t open without 
the key.” 

“ Will you open it, please?” 

281 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


He said, “ No, Raymond,” in a tone of cool finality, 
and she lost colour a little. 

“ Jeffrey,” she began, then paused and bit her 
lip. 

“ Raymond.” 

A scarlet patch of anger came suddenly to her cheek 
and she was silent until it had died again. Long years 
of self-control do not go for nothing. When she spoke 
at last there was only sadness in her voice: 

“ Jeffrey, I have valued our friendship—very 
much.” 

“ I hope,” he said, “ that you will value my love even 
more.” 

Her hand dropped from the door. She did not 
answer. The hope of moving him died. She drew 
her cloak about her, crossed the floor slowly, and 
seated herself in the chair. She did not look at 
Ember. 

When the last faint murmur of voices ceased, and 
the dark silence closed about her, Jane sat quite still 
for a while. It is very difficult indeed to keep one’s 
eyes open in the dark. Jane found that her lids 
dropped, or else that the blackness became full of odd 
traceries that worried and disturbed her. She felt 
as if she had been there for hours and hours; and 
she knew that it really might be hours before Henry 
came. 

She got up and walked slowly to where the passage 
came out into the main corridor. She stood under the 
arch and looked towards the laboratory turning. She 
had only to feel her way as far as that, turn up it, and 
she would come within sight of the lighted chamber 
where Ember and Lady Heritage were talking. The 
282 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


laboratory drew her, and the light drew her. She began 
to move cautiously along the corridor. She had on 
light house-shoes which made no sound. 

The little glow which presently relieved the black¬ 
ness cheered her unreasonably. It was a danger signal 
and she knew it, but it cheered her. 

“ One would rather be doing something dangerous 
than just mouldering in the pitch dark,” she told 
herself, and edged slowly nearer and nearer to the 
light. 

She was now &t the corner, and could look round it 
and through the steel bars into part of the laboratory. 
The disadvantage of her position was that she might be 
taken in the rear by any one who came along either 
the passage that she herself had come up or the slant¬ 
ing passage with the well in it which ran into the other 
at an acute angle, about six feet from where she was 
standing. 

Jane, however, knew of no one who was at all likely 
to arrive except Henry. She therefore did not trouble 
about her rear, but looked with all her eyes into the 
laboratory. She saw Lady Heritage sitting in a tall 
chair, a little turned away. Her right elbow rested 
on one arm, and her chin was in her hand. Her eyes 
were downcast. She was speaking in a cold, gentle 
voice: 

“ I have not many friends—I thought you were my 
friend. Was it all lies, Jeffrey?” 

Mr. Ember came into view for a moment. He must 
have been at the far end of the room. He came down 
it now, walked past Lady Heritage, and turned to 
face her. Jane saw his profile. He was smiling 
faintly. 


283 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ I am not fond of lies,” he said; “ they are very 
entangling—so hard to keep one’s head and remember 
what one has said. Now the truth is so simple and 
easy; besides, you may believe it or not, I really do 
dislike lying to you. I have always told you the truth 
where it was humanly possible to do so. Even in the 
matter of Miss Molloy-” 

Lady Heritage exclaimed suddenly and sharply, 
lifting her chin from her hand and throwing her head 
back: 

“ Renata Molloy! She’s in this wretched con¬ 
spiracy of yours, I suppose?” 

Ember laughed. 

“ No,” he said. 

“ Then what is she?” 

“ I wish I knew,” said Ember, speaking soberly 
enough. 

“ But what you told me wasn’t true?” 

“ Some of it was. I was really rather pleased with 
my neat dovetailing. I’ll run over it, and you’ll see 
that I told the truth whenever I could. All that about 
my having known Molloy in Chicago—solid fact. Then 
I think I said that I ran across him again in London, 
and found he had taken Government service with 
Scotland Yard—that was fiction, and so was the yarn 
about his warning me that foreign agents were on the 
track of the Government formula. But it’s perfectly 
true that he has a daughter, and that she sometimes 
walks in her sleep. When I told you that she had come 
in—sleep walking—during an important conversation 
about the Government formula, and that neither Mol¬ 
loy nor I was sure how much she had heard, I was 
mingling fact and fiction. Renata Molloy happened in 
284 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


on a meeting of The Great Council—that is the Council 
of the managing agents from all the countries within 
the scope of our operations, and no one knew what she 
had heard, or what she understood. When I told you 
that I thought she would be safer down here under my 
own eye, and that I was not sure whether she had been 
got at, I was speaking very serious fact indeed. They’d 
have killed her then and there if corpses were just a 
little easier to dispose of in London. I now very much 
regret that we didn’t chance it.” 

A trembling bewilderment had descended upon 
Jane. She saw Raymond stare for a moment at 
Ember with a curious horrified look and then drop 
her chin upon her hand again. Ember came a step 
nearer. 

“ Having disposed of that,” he said, “ I should be 
glad if you would just look at these papers. Docu¬ 
mentary evidence, as I said just now, is convincing. 
This is a short summary of our plans which has been 
issued to all managing agents. This is a list of those 
agents. They form The Great Council. These four 
names ”—he paused—“ I should have told you that 
there was an Inner Council. It is the Inner Council 
which really runs everything. There are four members. 
I come Second, Molloy was Third, and Belcovitch, 
who will be here presently, is Number Four.” 

Jane’s heart beat faster and faster. She heard that 
Belcovitch would be there presently, but she could not 
tear herself away. She saw Raymond Heritage put 
out her left hand for the papers and glance at them 
indifferently, saw her brow contract as she read, saw 
her drop the first two papers upon her lap and lift the 
third. There was a dead silence whilst she read it. 

285 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


It was the list which gave the names of the Inner 
Council. She let it drop from her hand and an extra¬ 
ordinary rush of colour transformed her. 

“ What is my name doing there?” she said. Her 
voice was not loud, but it rang. 

Ember turned upon her a face from which all blank¬ 
ness and coldness had vanished. 

“Your name?” he said. “Why, the whole thing 
has been built up round your name. The head of the 
Council, the inspiration of the movement, the driving 
force—you, you, Raymond, you. You are as indis¬ 
solubly knit with the plan as if you had conceived it. 
The whole Council, The Great Council, knows you 
as Number One of The Four who are the Inner Coun¬ 
cil. The work has been done here under your auspices.” 
His air of excitement vanished suddenly, his voice 
dropped to an ordinary note. “ I told you it was a 
business proposition. I assure you that it has been 
most adequately worked out. In the painful and 
improbable event of criminal proceedings, you would 
be cast for the chief role. A wealth of corroborative 
detail has been provided. In business, as you know, 
one has to think of everything. I’m showing you 
the penalty of failure, but we shan’t fail. I’m showing 
what success will mean. Think of it—the absolute 
power to say, 'This shall be done.’ The absolute 
power to impose your will! The absolute power to 
blot out of existence whatever crosses it!” A gleam 
came into his eyes like nothing that Jane had ever 
seen before. “ Raymond, I’m not a visionary or a mad¬ 
man. The thing is within my grasp. I’m offering it to 
you. It’s yours for the taking.” 

Raymond did not speak. She only lifted her eyes 
286 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

and looked at him. It was a long look. Whilst it 
lasted Jane held her breath. Raymond looked down 
again; there was silence. 

Into the silence came a distant sound—a faint 
dragging sound. 


287 


CHAPTER XXVII 


H ENRY left his car at The Three Farmers on 
the Withstead road, and proceeded with 
energy towards the beach. He was glad enough to 
walk after the long drive. 

The day was chilly, the air full of moisture, and a 
thin, cold mist was rising off the marshes. What 
breeze there was came from the land and took the 
mist only a few hundred yards out to sea. The motor- 
boat telephoned for by Mr. Ember earlier in the day 
ran into it as she came into Withstead Cove to land 
a passenger. The passenger, who was Mr. Belcovitch, 
was very glad indeed to be landed. He had no 
nautical tendencies, and would have preferred danger 
on dry land to safety at sea. He made his way up 
the beach and, confused by the mist, went into the 
wrong cave. As he turned to come out of it, having dis¬ 
covered his mistake, he heard footsteps, and promptly 
sheltered himself behind a convenient buttress. 

Henry walked briskly past and, as Mr. Belcovitch 
stared after him, disappeared into the next cave. He 
disappeared and he did not return. Belcovitch heard 
a familiar sound, the sound made by the pivoting stone 
as it swung back into its place. He recognised it, and 
became a prey to some rather violent emotions, of 
which fear, hatred, and a desire to annihilate Henry 
were the chief. Henry was unknown to him, there¬ 
fore Henry was not one of them. His walk, his 
288 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

carriage, his whole appearance marked him out as 
belonging to that class which Mr. Belcovitch made 
a profession of detesting. He possessed the secret 
of the passages, and was therefore in the highest 
degree dangerous. 

Belcovitch followed him as rapidly and as silently 
as a man can follow whose very existence has for many 
years depended on his proficiency in these respects. 
He closed the stone behind him with a good deal more 
care than Henry had taken, and, having done so, 
went up the steps at a surprising rate and in a moment 
had his quarry in view. Henry had switched on a 
torch and was proceeding at a moderate rate down the 
main passage. Belcovitch, moving after him like a 
cat, did some rapid thinking. It would be very easy 
to shoot, but it would make a noise. He fingered 
a length of lead piping in one of his pockets and 
thought with impassioned earnestness of the back of 
Henry’s neck. Yet, supposing that Ember knew of 
Henry’s visit—he did not want any unpleasantness 
with Ember. It would probably be better not to 
kill Henry in case it should prove that Ember would 
rather have him alive. It was always better to be on 
good terms with Ember. Molloy had fallen out with 
him, and it appeared that at this very moment two 
comrades were on their way to eliminate Molloy. 
All this very rapidly. 

He decided not to kill Henry. It was a pity, because 
there was a most convenient well into which he could 
have dropped him. He decreased the distance 
between them and unfastened the black silk muffler 
which he wore instead of collar and tie. 

Henrv pursued his unconscious path, his mind 
289 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


occupied with Jane, and plans, and Jane, and Ember, 
and Anthony, and Raymond, and Jane again. It is 
to be regretted that he did not look behind him. The 
villain ought not to be able to steal upon the hero in 
the dark without being heard, but Henry had not had 
Mr. Belcovitch’s advantages. The latter had all the 
tricks of the half-world at his command, and Henry 
had not. 

Just before the laboratory turning Belcovitch came 
up with a quick run, and that was the first that Henry 
heard of him. The next instant he felt himself tripped, 
struggling desperately to keep his footing, slipped in 
the slime, and came down choking, with a black silk 
muffler tightly knotted about his throat. Belcovitch 
was a very neat operator. First the trip, then the 
twist, and then the chloroform bottle. He had never 
made a crisper job of it. He took Henry by the heels 
and proceeded to drag him along the passage towards 
the laboratory, Henry being mercifully oblivious of 
what was happening. 

When Jane heard that faint dragging sound, she had 
just about half a minute to decide which passage it 
came from, and to get away down the other one. It 
really took her less than thirty seconds to realise that 
some one was coming by the way that she herself had 
come, and to dart into the slanting passage which held 
the well. A yard or two down she turned and stood 
where she had stood to see Ember pass the day before. 
Whoever was coming had no light. Of course they 
could see the light from the laboratory and were steer¬ 
ing by it. It was a man coming; she could tell by the 
tread. He was dragging something—something heavy. 
What? Or who? Jane sickened. 

290 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


A dark figure passed between her and the glow that 
came from the laboratory. She took three light steps, 
and saw that what he dragged behind him was a sense¬ 
less man—senseless or dead. 

She heard Ember call out, “ Belcovitch, is that 
you?” And a voice with a strong foreign accent 
answered. 

Then a great many things seemed to happen at once: 
the steel gate opened; the helpless man was dragged 
in; and, as the gate fell to, there came Raymond 
Heritage’s scream. 

Jane shook from head to foot. The scream cut like 
a knife. Why did she scream like that? Who was it? 
Who was it? Who was it? She got her answer in 
Raymond’s gasp of “ Henry!” 

An inner blackness, much, much worse than that in¬ 
tolerable dark which had oppressed her, swept between 
Jane and everything in the world. When Raymond said, 
“ Henry!” the light went out of her world and left 
it black. She heard Ember say, “ Is he dead?” but 
she could not see Belcovitch’s shrug and shake of the 
head. She leaned against the wall and could not move. 
I suppose that in that moment she knew that she really 
loved Henry. It hurt—dreadfully. 

Then she heard Raymond’s voice again: 

“ What have you done to him? Devils, devils!” 
And Ember: 

“ My dear Raymond, calm yourself. He’s not dead, 
nothing so crude. Mr. Belcovitch is an artist, and 
Captain March will come round in a minute or 
two and be none the worse. I’m sorry you had a 
shock.” 

Light, dazzling light flooded Jane’s consciousness. 

291 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Henry wasn’t dead. The dark was only a dream, and 
she was awake again. She was very much awake, 
and her whole waking thought was bent upon the 
necessity of getting help for Henry before that dream 
came true. 

Ember and Belcovitch would murder him if they had 
time. Raymond would make what time she could, 
but in the end they would murder him unless Jane 
could get help. 

She turned, holding to the wall, and moved along the 
passage. When she had taken a step or two something 
happened which she could never think of without self- 
abasement. Her nerve went suddenly, and she began 
to run. It was only for a dozen steps; then her self- 
control came into play. She pulled up panting, and, 
after listening for a moment, crept the rest of the way, 
reached the steps, and came out into the empty hall, 
dirty, wet, and as white as a sheet. 

As soon as she had the panel shut she ran across the 
hall and down the corridor to the library. She shut 
the library door with a sharp push, and was across the 
room and taking down the telephone receiver before the 
sound of the bang had died away. 

“ Exchange!” she said, “Exchange!” and clenched 
her hand as she waited for the reply. It came with 
a dreamy accent, the voice of a girl disturbed in the 
middle of Sunday afternoon. Nobody should be tele¬ 
phoning in the middle of Sunday afternoon. 

“ Can you look up a London number for me? Sir 
Julian Le Mesurier ”—she spelt it. “ Please be very 
quick; please , it’s important.” 

“ Righto,” said the dreamy voice incongruously. 

Silence fell. Jane held on to the telephone, and tried 
292 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


to control her breathing, which came in gasps. The 
room seemed full of mist; she shut her eyes. 

When Jane started to run down the laboratory 
passage Jeffrey Ember was superintending the removal 
of the black silk muffler from Henry’s neck. When 
they rolled Henry over on to his face he groaned, and 
when they tied his hands behind his back with the 
muffler he tried to kick, whereupon Ember produced a 
piece of rope and they tied his ankles too. 

The sound of Jane’s running feet had come very 
faintly upon Ember’s ear. Henry was groaning and 
kicking, and Belcovitch was cursing in a steady under¬ 
tone. It was not until he rose to get the piece of rope 
that his mind took hold of that faint sound and began 
to analyse it. There had been a sound in the passage 
outside—some one moving—some one running. Yes, 
that was it, some one running, light foot and very fast. 

Ember finished tying Henry up and got to his feet. 

“ There was some one in the passage just now,” he 
said. “ I must go and see. There was something; I 
heard something. It was like some one running.” He 
spoke as if to himself, and then turned to Raymond. 

“ You will stay where you are in that chair—other¬ 
wise . . .” He swung round to Belcovitch. 

“ If she moves, shoot Captain March at once,” he 
said, and was gone, leaving the gate ajar behind him. 

In the library Jane waited for her call. It came with 
startling loudness—a bell that seemed to ring inside 
her head—and then the dreamy voice drawling, “ Here 
y’are.” 

In Piggy’s study Isobel Le Mesurier said, “ Hullo!” 

“ Is that Lady Le Mesurier?” said Jane. 

“ Yes, speaking.” 


293 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Please tell your husband-” 

And Isobel’s charming, friendly voice, “ He’s here. 
Won’t you speak to him yourself?” 

Jane’s hearing, always acute, was strung to an 
extraordinary pitch. She could hear the girl at the 
exchange speaking to some one; she could hear Isobel 
saying, “ Piggy, you’re wanted and behind these 
sounds, on the extreme edge of what was perceptible, 
she heard the click of the panel and Ember’s footsteps 
as he crossed the polished floor. She knew that they 
were Ember’s footsteps, and she heard them coming 
nearer. 

Sir Julian was speaking: 

“ Who is it?” 

Jane heard her own voice, and it sounded small and 
far away. 

“ Jane Smith, speaking from Luttrell Marches. 
They’ve got Henry in the passages. He’s hurt. 
They’ve got a motor-boat in Withstead Cove. Help 
as quickly as you can. Some one’s coming.” 

Ember was half-way down the corridor. Piggy was 
speaking: 

“ Anthony Luttrell’s on his way—should be with you 
any minute.” 

Ember turned the handle. Jane called out: 

“ Oh, can’t you get me that number—oh, can’t you 
get it quickly? . . .” And, as the door opened sharply, 
she dropped the receiver and turned. 

Ember came in—a new Ember. There was some¬ 
thing terrifying in his look, and he said harshly: 

“ What are you doing?” 

“ Trying to telephone,” said Jane. “ They take such 
ages.” 


294 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Mr. Ember’s look was terrifying, but Jane was not 
terrified. As she dropped the receiver something hap¬ 
pened to her which she did not understand. Within 
the last half-hour she had felt an extremity of fear and 
sudden anguish, violent relief, and again intensest fear 
and suspense. From this moment none of these things 
came near her. She moved among them, but they 
did not touch her at all. The thing was like a play in 
which she had her part duly written and rehearsed. 
There was no sense of responsibility, only a stage upon 
which she must play her part; and she knew her part 
very well. She did not have to think, or plan, or 
contrive. She knew what to do, and how and when 
to do it. From the moment that she dropped the 
receiver at the telephone she never faltered for an 
instant. 

Ember looked at her with eyes which saw every tell¬ 
tale stain upon her dress and hands. The something 
in his gaze which should have been frightening became 
intensified. 

“ Lady Heritage wants you in the study,” he said. 

Jane knew very well that he said the study because 
the study was next to the door in the panelling. If she 
refused to go, he would stun her or shoot her here. She 
did not refuse, and walked down the corridor by his 
side in silence. They crossed the hall, and Ember 
kept between her and the stairs. Jane walked meekly 
beside him with downcast eyes until he passed ahead 
of her to open the study door. In that moment she 
turned on her heel, sprang for the stairs and raced up 
them, running as she had never run in her life. 

Ember would not risk shooting her in the hall—she 
felt sure of that—but he was after her like a flash, and 
295 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


she had very little start. She reached for the newel 
at the top and jumped the last three steps, with 
Ember about two yards behind. Then down the cor¬ 
ridor with a rush and into her room, and the door 
banged and locked as he reached it. 

Jane wasted no time. She thought that Ember 
would hesitate to break down the door until he had at 
least tried promises and threats, but she was taking no 
chances. She heard him speaking as she opened the 
cupboard door and locked herself inside it. His voice 
was only a murmur as she heaved up the trap-door 
in the floor and climbed carefully down the ladder upon 
which Henry had stood that night which seemed like 
weeks and weeks ago. The catch in the wall at the 
bottom was a simple handle like the one behind the 
panelling. She emerged into the garden room, opened 
the window, dropped out of it, and ran quickly and 
lightly along the terrace, keeping close to the wall of 
the house. 

Ember talked through the door for five minutes. 
His remarks ranged from persuasive promises to 
threats, which lost nothing from being delivered in a 
chilly whisper. At the end of the five minutes he put 
his shoulder against the lock and broke it. He found 
an empty room and a locked cupboard. When he had 
broken the cupboard door and discovered nothing more 
exciting than Renata’s schoolgirl wardrobe, he went to 
the open window and stared incredulously at the drop 
to the terrace. Jane had turned the corner of the 
house and was out of sight. 

Ember came downstairs with the knowledge that he 
must complete his business quickly if he meant to 
bring it to any conclusion other than disaster. 

296 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

He went straight to the library and rang up the 
Withstead exchange. 

“ The young lady who was telephoning just now, did 
she get the number she wanted? She did? Would 
you kindly tell me which number it was?” 

There was a pause, and then the information came: 
Sir Julian Le Mesurier! There was certainly no 
time to be lost. Molloy and his daughter both traitors, 
both spies, both in Government pay! Molloy should 
be reckoned with by now, and some day without fail 
he would reckon with Renata. 

He came into the hall, and released the spring of the 
hidden door. As the panel turned under his hand, he 
heard the purr of a motor coming nearer. It drew up. 
The bell clanged. Mr. Ember stepped into the dark¬ 
ness and closed the panel behind him. 


297 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


A NTHONY LUTTRELL’S distaste for his errand 
had certainly not lessened during the long 
drive from town. He stood now on his own doorstep 
facing a strange butler, and heard a formal “ Not at 
home,” in response to his inquiry for Lady Heritage. 
“ And Miss Molloy?” he asked. 

“ Not at home,” repeated Blotson. 

If this was a reprieve it was an unwelcome one. 
Anthony would very much have preferred to get the 
thing over. 

“ I will wait,” he said briefly, and walked past 
Blotson into the hall. “ I am Mr. Luttrell,” he ex¬ 
plained, and Blotson’s resentment diminished very 
slightly. After a moment’s hesitation he threw open 
the study door and ushered Anthony into the room. 

“ If Lady Heritage is in the house she will see me,” 
said Anthony. “If she is out I should like to see 
Miss Molloy or, failing her, Mr. Ember.” He walked 
to the window and stood there looking out until Blotson 
returned. 

“ Lady Heritage is out, sir, and Miss Molloy is out. 
Mr. Ember was in just now, but he must have stepped 
out again.” 

“ I will wait,” said Anthony for the second time. 
When Blotson had gone, he stood quite still, follow¬ 
ing out a somewhat uneasy train of thought. As the 
minutes passed, uneasiness merged into anxiety. 

298 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Jane ran the whole way to the walled garden. Once 
inside its door she made herself walk in order to get her 
breath. When she came into the potting-shed she 
knew just what she was going to do, and set about 
doing it in a quiet, businesslike way. From a stack of 
pots she took about half a dozen, broke all but two of 
them, and gathered the sherds into the lap of her dress. 
She put the two unbroken pots on the top of the 
sherds. Then she took a sharp pruning-knife from the 
shelf, opened the trap-door, and went down the steps. 

As soon as she came into the main corridor she began 
to put down the broken sherds, taking care to make no 
noise. She laid a trail of them up to the laboratory 
turning, and then all along the turning itself, disposing 
them in the middle of the fairway in such a manner 
as to ensure that they should not fail to be seen by any 
one flashing a light along the passage. She put the 
last two or three sherds in a little pile about a yard 
short of the arch leading to the slanting passage with 
the well in it. As she bent down there she heard 
Belcovitch maintaining an impassioned Slavonic mono¬ 
logue within the laboratory. 

She stood in the archway, threw her two unbroken 
pots against the opposite wall with all her might, and 
then ran back down the well passage until it turned. 

Everything happened just as she knew that it would 
happen. 

Belcovitch stopped talking and swore. It was a 
polysyllabic curse, very effective. Then the steel 
gate was flung open, and in three languages Mr. 
Belcovitch demanded of the silence an account of what 
was happening. His voice ran away into a hollow 
echo, and died miserably. 

299 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Jane heard him stamp back into the chamber, 
cursing, and return. This time he flashed a light 
before him. Flattened against the wall, Jane saw its 
glow reflected from the side of the passage in which 
she was. Belcovitch had seen the sherds and was ex¬ 
claiming and muttering. She heard him pass the arch. 

Jane stole to the mouth of the slanting passage. 
Belcovitch was two yards away on her left, flashing 
his light down the tunnel, seeing more broken pots, 
and more and more, and swearing all the time, not 
loudly but with considerable earnestness. Jane slipped 
like a shadow across behind him and round the corner. 
The steel gate was wide open. She ran through it and 
into the lighted laboratory. 

Henry lay on the stone floor in front of her, bound 
hand and foot. He had rolled over on to his side and 
was staring at the gate. Raymond had risen to her 
feet, and was taking a half-step towards Henry as 
Jane came running in. 

“ Shut the gate,” said Henry in a sharp whisper. 

“ There’s another way out, and I don’t think they 
know it. Quick, Jane, quick!” 

Jane slammed the gate. She had the pruning-knife 
in her hand, and she was down on her knees and at 
work on the black silk muffler before the sound of the 
slam reached Mr. Belcovitch. When it did reach him 
he spun round and came back at a run with a revolver 
in his hand and murderous fury in his heart. 

Jane cut through the last shred of silk, and because 
Belcovitch’s hand was shaking with rage his first bullet 
missed her and Henry handsomely. 

“ Get up against the wall, quick! ” Henry com¬ 
manded. 


300 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


As he spoke he was himself half rolling, half scramb¬ 
ling towards the wall. His ankles were still tied, but 
his arms were free. The second bullet just missed his 
head. Jane cried out, and then they were both out of 
the line of fire. Henry was breathing hard. 

“ Give me the knife,” he panted, and began to saw at 
some of the toughest rope he had ever come across. 

Raymond had remained standing. She had re¬ 
treated almost to the end of the room and wore a 
look of extreme surprise. 

“ Why do you call her Jane?” she asked. Her 
deep voice came through the racket with strange 
irrelevance. 

Belcovitch continued to make the maximum amount 
of noise in which it is possible for a man and a revolver 
to collaborate. He banged the steel gate in the inter¬ 
vals of firing, and he cursed voluminously. 

The rope gave, and Henry was half-way on to 
his feet when there was a sudden cessation of all the 
sounds. Raymond gave a warning cry, and Henry 
caught at Jane’s shoulder and straightened himself. 
The steel gate was opening. 

Jane said, “ Henry—oh, Henry darling!” and there 
came in Mr. Jeffrey Ember, very cool and deadly, with 
his little automatic pistol levelled. Just behind him 
came Belcovitch, a silent Belcovitch, at his master’s 
heel. 

“ Touching scene,” said Ember. “ Captain March, if 
you don’t put your hands up at once I shall shoot Miss 
Molloy. From her last exclamation, I should imagine 
that you’d rather I didn’t. Miss Molloy, go across to 
the opposite wall and stand there. Belcovitch, kindly 
keep your revolver against that young lady’s temple, 
301 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

but don’t let it off till I give you leave. Raymond, I 
should be glad if you would resume your chair. A 
brief conversation is, I think, necessary, and I should 
prefer you to be seated.” 

He stood not far from the entrance, dominating the 
room. The gate had been closed by Belcovitch. 
Ember waited till' his instructions had been carried 
out; then he came a little nearer to Lady Heritage 
and said: 

“ Time presses, Raymond. I must go. I wish that 
there were more time, for indeed I would rather not 
have hurried you.” 

Jane, with the muzzle of Belcovitch’s revolver cold 
against her temple, found her attention caught by 
Ember’s words. Time . . . yes, that’s what they 
wanted—time. Piggy had said that Anthony might 
arrive at any moment. When he did arrive and found 
that they were all mysteriously absent, surely his first 
thought would be to search the passages. She raised 
her voice and said insistently: 

“ Mr. Ember.” 

Ember threw her a dangerous look. 

“ Be quiet,” he said shortly. 

“ There was something I wanted to tell you,” said 
Jane. 

“ Out with it then, and be quick.” 

“ You called me Miss Molloy just now. . . .” 

“ No, Jane, no!” said Henry violently. 

Mr. Ember echoed the remark made by Lady 
Pleritage. 

“ Why do you call her Jane?” he inquired. 

u "I hat is what I was going to tell you,” said Jane. 
“You called me Miss Molloy, and I just thought I 
302 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

would like you to know that I'm not Renata Molloy. 
It would make an untidy sort of finish if you went 
away thinking that I was, and I hate things untidy." 

“ You’re a little devil," said Ember . . . “ a little 
devil." 

Jane stuck her chin in the air. 

“ Well, I’m not Renata Molloy anyhow," she said. 
“ No one would ever have called her a devil. She was 
a white rabbit—a nice, quiet, tame white rabbit." 

Jane’s voice failed suddenly on the last word. Yet 
Mr. Ember had not looked at her again. His eyes went 
past her to Belcovitch, and it was to Belcovitch that he 
spoke. 

“ No, not yet," he said, “ but if she speaks again you 
can shoot." 

A long, slow shudder swept Jane. She leaned against 
the wall and was silent, and she shut her eyes because 
she could not bear to see Henry’s face. Ember turned 
back to Raymond. 

“ I’m sorry to hurry you." His voice was low and 
confidential. “ What I have to offer, you know. It 
is yours for the taking. Please don’t make any mistake. 
I have to change my base, it is true—I have even to 
change it with some haste—but neither that nor any¬ 
thing else can now affect my purpose and its achieve¬ 
ment. What I offered is, without any shadow of 
uncertainty, mine to offer and yours to take, if you will 
... if you will, Raymond?" 

Raymond’s sombre gaze dwelt on him as he spoke. 
The whole scene affected her as one is affected by some¬ 
thing which is taking place at a great distance. She 
did not seem able to adjust her mental focus to it. 
Her mind seemed to be divided into two parts. One 
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ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


of them was entirely and unreasonably preoccupied 
with the relationship between Jane and Henry, and 
the reason why Henry should have addressed Renata 
Molloy as Jane. These thoughts seemed to circle as 
continuously, and with as little aim, as goldfish in a 
glass bowl. The other part of her mind was bruised 
and sick because Jeffrey Ember had been her friend. 
When he said, “ Will you, Raymond?” she did not 
speak. She looked at him in silence, and presently 
made a slow gesture of refusal. 

Ember came a step nearer. 

“ I told you,” he said, “ that I was in dead earnest. 
Perhaps you don’t realise just what I mean by that. 
I’ve played for a high stake, and I mean to have what 
I’ve played for or nothing. I’ve played for you, and 
if . . .” He broke off. “Let me put it this way. 
Either we make the future together or there’s no future 
for either of us. I’m speaking quite soberly when I tell 
you this. Think well before you answer, but don’t be 
too long. If there is to be no future our present will 
end here and now. This place is mined, and if I press 
that unobtrusive knob, which you may notice above 
the safe, the end will be quite a dramatic one. I have 
always had some such contingency in view, and this 
makes as good a stepping-off place as any other. Think 
before you refuse, Raymond.” 

She shook her head again. Her eyes never left his 
face. Ember made an impatient gesture. 

“ Are your friends going to thank you?” he said. 
“ You are taking the heroic pose, and forgive me if I 
say that it’s a little unworthy of you. I expected some¬ 
thing less obvious. Take my offer, and I guarantee to 
leave Captain March and Miss Molloy here unharmed. 

304 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

Can any woman resist sacrificing herself? Come, will 
you save them, Raymond ?” 

Lady Heritage spoke for the first time: 

“ I suppose that I must be a fool because I trusted 
you ... I did trust you, Jeffrey . . . but I don’t 
know what you have ever seen in me to make you 
suppose that I am such a fool as to trust you 
again . . . now.” 

Her words and her voice caused a change in Ember, 
a change as difficult to define as to describe. It is 
best realised by its effect upon those present. Some 
impression of shock was received in varying degree by 
them all. Henry March had, perhaps, the most vivid 
sense of it. In Belcovitch it bred panic. 

Whilst Ember was speaking the hand that held the 
revolver to Jane’s temple had become more and more 
unsteady. The muzzle knocked cold against her 
cheek bone and jabbed against her ear. Jane won¬ 
dered when the thing would go off. So, it is to be 
imagined, did Henry, for he was grey about the mouth 
and his forehead was wet. 

Ember did not speak for a moment. Then he 
said: 

“ Touche!” in a queer, bitter voice. 

Belcovitch began to mutter in an undertone that 
gradually became louder. His hand shook more and 
more. 

“ Sure, Raymond?” said Jeffrey Ember. “ Quite, 
quite sure?” 

He came up quite close, and laid his right hand 
lightly on her shoulder. It was the first time that he 
had touched her. 

She said just the one word, “ Yes.” For a moment 
305 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


his hand closed hard upon her. Then he sprang back 
with a laugh. 

“ All right, then we go up together.” And, as he 
spoke, he made for the corner where a little vulcanite 
knob showed above the steel safe. 

With a sort of howl Belcovitch whirled to meet him. 
They crashed together and grappled, Ember silent, 
Belcovitch torrential in imprecation and fighting as 
a man frenzied with terror does fight. His revolver 
dropped from his hand, and Ember stumbled over it. 

Like a flash Henry had Raymond by the arm, whilst 
his eyes commanded Jane and he pointed to the 
passage that led out of the laboratory on the extreme 
right. It was the one that Jane had explored first, 
and as she ran into it she remembered that it ended 
in a small chamber full of packing-cases. In a panting 
whisper she said: 

“ It’s full of boxes.” 

“ Then we must shift them,” said Henry, and, 
groping in the almost dark, he began to pull the cases 
away from the right-hand wall. 

“ A light—he can’t find the spring without a light.” 

Raymond heard her own voice saying this, and then 
she ran back down the passage and into the laboratory. 

Belcovitch had put his torch down on the bench 
from which Jane had taken the lists. Its exact position 
was, as it were, photographed on Raymond’s con¬ 
sciousness. She reached, snatched it, and was back 
again in the least possible space of time. As she came, 
she saw Ember and Belcovitch swaying, struggling— 
horribly near the corner. And as she went she had 
an impression of Belcovitch falling and, as he fell, 
dragging Ember down with desperate, clawing hands. 

306 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


Then she was trying to steady her hand and throw the 
light upon the wall space which Henry had cleared; 
but the beam wavered and shook, shook and wavered; 
and Jane took the torch out of her hand, setting it on 
one of the packing-cases. 

V It should be here. It should be just here ”—Henry 
spoke in a muttering whisper; then with sharp irrita¬ 
tion, “ Nearer with that light, Jane.” 

Jane held it closely to the wall. Henry’s hands slid 
up and down, feeling . . . pressing. Once they heard 
Belcovitch shout, and all the time the sound of the 
struggle filled their straining ears. Some one fired a 
shot— and Henry found the spring. A slab of stone 
swung outwards, pivoting as the other doors had 
done. 

Henry pushed Jane through the opening, flung his 
arm round Raymond, dragged her through and 
slammed the stone into place. They were in the narrow 
alley-way between the row of veronica bushes and the 
terrace wall, on the spot where Mr. George Patterson 
had stood listening to Raymond’s voice. The air, the 
daylight, the mist, seemed wonderful beyond words. 
Jane never again beheld a mist without remembering 
that joyful lift of the heart which came to her when 
the stone shut and she drew her first long, free breath. 
Henry gave her no time to savour the joys of freedom. 

“ Run, run like blazes!” he shouted. 

Jane ran. Once she started she felt as if nothing 
would ever stop her. She heard Henry just behind 
her; she heard him urging Raymond on, and they 
came out of the alley-way round the end of the terrace, 
round the side of the house. 

Then it came. 


307 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


The ground shook; there was a muffled thud and a 
long, heavy rumble that died slowly. Then with a 
terrific crash two of the stone urns along the terrace 
wall fell and broke. As the noise ebbed there came 
the tinkling sound of splintered glass falling upon 
stone. 

Jane stopped running as if she had been shot, and 
reeled up against Henry, who put his arms round her 
and held her tight. Up to that very moment the 
feeling of unreality, of playing a part in a play for 
which she had no responsibility whilst her real self 
looked on remotely—this feeling had dominated her. 
Now it was as if the curtain fell and she, Jane, was left 
groping amongst events that terrified her. She trembled 
very much, and clung to Henry, who was at that 
moment the one really safe and solid thing within 
reach. 

Raymond did not pause or turn her head, but walked 
straight on towards the house. 


308 


CHAPTER XXIX 


T HE last rumble of the explosion had hardly 
died away before Anthony Luttrell had flung 
open the study door, and was making his way at a 
run towards the Yellow Drawing-Room. 

At the glass door which led on to the terrace he 
halted, opened it wide, and stood on the step looking 
out. Some glass was still falling from the broken 
windows on this side of the house. All the terrace 
on the right of where he stood was like a drawing in 
which the perspective has gone wrong. There was a 
great bulge in one place, and some of the paving-stones 
were tilted aslant, whilst others had fallen in, leaving a 
gaping hole over which a cloud of dust was settling. 

Anthony turned his back upon all this and came 
back with great strides into the hall. Without so 
much as a look behind him to see whether he was 
observed, he loosened the spring, pushed open the 
door in the panelling and there halted, suddenly re¬ 
membering the need of a light. He went back for a 
torch, and then passed down the steps without waiting 
to close the door. 

That something appalling had happened was obvious. 
With the self-control without which it is impossible 
to meet an emergency Anthony kept his thought 
focused upon what he was doing. At the bottom of 
the steps the way was still clear. He saw Jane’s 
broken pots and wondered what on earth they were 
309 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

doing there. Then he turned into the laboratory 
passage, flashing the light ahead of him. Half-way 
along the passage the roof had fallen in. 

Anthony turned, came back into the main corridor, 
ran along it until he came to the place where the well 
passage joined it. Here he turned off, made his way 
cautiously past the well, and again found a mass of 
stone and rubble blocking his path. A cold horror 
came over him, and all those thoughts to which he had 
barred his mind came insistently nearer, pressing past 
those barriers and taking his consciousness by storm. 
He came back into the hall and shut the door in the 
panelling. 

The hall was quite empty, but the voice of Blotson 
could be heard at no great distance. It was raised in 
exhortation and rebuke. Obviously he rallied a staff 
which inclined to hysteria, for one could hear a 
woman’s sobs and a subdued chorus of perturbation 
and nervous inquiry. 

Anthony went to the front door and flung it open. 
His car stood at a little distance, the inspector and the 
chauffeur in close conversation. Anthony did not see' 
them. He only saw Raymond Heritage, who was 
coming slowly up the steps. She was bareheaded, and 
her face was very pale. She wore a white dress with 
a black cloak over it. She stumbled twice as she 
climbed the steps and, if Anthony was only conscious 
of seeing her, she did not appear to be conscious of 
seeing any one at all. 

It was only when the hand which she put out in front 
of her actually touched Anthony that she lifted her 
eyes and looked at him. Then she said in an odd, 
piteous sort of voice: 


310 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


“ Tony.” 

“ What is it? What has happened, Raymond? 
Are you all right?” 

“ I must speak to you—I must,” she said, catching 
at his arm and drawing him towards the study. They 
went in, and when the door was shut she turned to 
him with the tears running down her face. 

“ Tony, you heard? I think he’s dead. That place 
downstairs was mined, and he tried to kill us all, only 
we got away, Henry, the girl, and I. But Jeffrey’s 
dead—yes, I think he must be dead, and I know now 
what you thought. I didn’t know what you meant 
before, but I know now. You were wrong, Tony. 
Oh, Tony, won’t you believe me? I didn’t tell him 
about the passages, and I didn’t know anything until 
to-day. They can tell you I was speaking the truth 
—Henry and Miss Molloy; but, oh, Tony, can’t you 
believe me, just me?” 

Anthony looked at her, and looked. His face was 
twitching. As her voice broke on the last two words 
he dropped to his knees, flung his arms about her, and 
hid his face in the folds of her cloak. 

By the time that Jane and Henry came into the 
house Blotson had set all his machinery running once 
more. He himself presented a magnificent front to 
two of the most dishevelled people whom he had ever 
been called upon to receive. It was not until after¬ 
wards when it came home to Henry how much green 
slime there was in his wildly ruffled hair, and how little 
the original colour of his collar could be discerned, that 
he realised how marvellous had been the unflinching 
calm of Blotson. He referred neither to the explosion 
nor to Henry’s appearance. In point of fact, what 
311 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 


were emergencies and accidents that Blotson should 
notice them? The hour being five o’clock, it was his 
business to announce tea. He announced it. 

“ Tea is served in the library,” he said, and passed 
upon his way. 

But in the library the tea cooled while Henry, very 
much relieved to find that the wires had not been cut, 
galvanised the Withstead exchange and got on to a dis¬ 
tinctly relieved Sir Julian. 

They arranged, speaking in Italian, that an explosion 
had occurred in the course of an important experiment 
in Sir William’s laboratory. It was agreed to notify 
Sir William and the press. The loss of two lives was 
greatly to be deplored. When this was finished Piggy 
became less official. 

“ That girl of yours is a brick; you can tell her so 
from me. She’s all right, I hope?” 

Henry said “ Yes,” that Jane was quite all right. 
He sounded a trifle puzzled. 

Piggy laughed. 

“ Didn’t you know she had rung me up to say you’d 
been nobbled? Most businesslike communication I’ve 
ever had from a lady in all my life. Told me they’d 
got a motor-boat in Withstead Cove. And, thanks to 
her, we ought to have gathered it in. I got through 
to the coastguard station at once. Now look here, 
what’s the likelihood of laying hands on Ember’s 
papers?” 

“ Ember’s papers?” repeated Henry. “ Well, there 
was a safe down there, and that’s where he’d be most 
likely to keep them; but I expect they’re all gone to 
blazes, as the door was open.” 

At this point Jane’s voice came in breathlessly: 

312 


ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH 

“ Henry, wait, keep him on the line! ” she said, 
and was gone. 

“ It’s Jane, sir,” said Henry. “ I think she’s gone 
to get something.” 

In the middle of Piggy’s subsequent instructions 
Jane came back. She held a bundle of closely written 
sheets. She spread them before Henry’s eyes, holding 
them fan-wise like a hand at cards. 

“ I’d forgotten them till you said that about the 
papers—I’d actually forgotten them. It’s lists of his 
agents in all the big towns everywhere. I sat up all 
night copying them because I didn’t dare keep the 
originals. I keep forgetting you don’t know what’s 
been happening. But tell him, Henry, tell him we’ve 
got the lists.” 

Henry told him. 

Jane heard Sir Julian answer, and then Henry hung 
up the receiver and hugged her. 

“ What did he say? Henry, you’re breaking my 
ribs! What did he say?” 

“ Jane, you’re a brick, and a wonder, and a darling, 
and he said—he said, ‘ Bless you, my children!’ ” 


THE END 


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